Forget Me Not
by alance07
Summary: An alternate ending to the rooftop scene. What if Christine hadn't accepted Raoul's advances and followed her angel's instructions instead? EC. FINISHED 920
1. vérité

Hey guys this is my first Phanfic so I hope you enjoy it. Like the summary says this is an alternate ending to the rooftop scene (because I have to believe that there are many others out there who were far from pleased with the results of everything!) so here we go as always read and review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Doing the poor dance

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_Raoul: _

_Why have you brought me here? _

_Christine: We can't go back there! _

_Raoul: _

_We must return! _

_Christine: _

_He'll kill you! _

_His eyes will find us there! _

_Raoul: Christine, don't say that _

_Christine: Those eyes that burn! _

_Raoul: _

_Don't even think it _

_Christine: _

_And if he has to kill a thousand men _

_Raoul: _

_Forget this waking nightmare _

_Christine: _

_The Phantom of the Opera will kill _

_Raoul: _

_This phantom is a fable _

_Believe me _

_Christine: _

_...and kill again! _

_Raoul: _

_There is no Phantom of the Opera _

_Christine: _

_My God, who is this man _

_Raoul: _

_My God, who is this man _

_Christine: _

_...who hunts to kill? _

_Raoul: _

_...this mask of death? _

_Christine: _

_I can't escape from him _

_Raoul: _

_Whose is this voice you hear _

_Christine: _

_...I never will! _

_Raoul: _

_...with every breath? _

_Both: _

_And in this labyrinth, _

_where night is blind _

_the Phantom of the Opera _

_is here/there _

_inside your/my mind _

_Raoul: _

_There is no Phantom of the Opera _

_Christine: _

_Raoul, I've been there, to his world of _

_unending night _

_To a world where the daylight dissolves _

_into darkness, darkness _

_Raoul, I've seen him! _

_Can I ever forget that sight? _

_Can I ever escape from that face? _

_So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face, _

_in the darkness, darkness _

_But his voice filled my spirit _

_with a strange, sweet sound _

_In that night there was music in my mind _

_And through music my soul began to soar! _

_And I heard as I'd never heard before _

_Raoul: _

_What you heard was a dream and nothing more _

_Christine: _

_Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world _

_those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore _

_Raoul: _

_Christine, Christine _

_Phantom: _

_Christine_

Christine smiled fondly as the familiar voice entered her ears and warmed her soul despite the cold that lingered in the winter air. And yet she trembled with fear at the thought of what her angel was capable of. It was difficult to believe that such an angelic voice could ever belong to someone who would take the life of another. And yet she knew it was true, for she saw his persistent shape in the shadows long before he had disrupted the show with his complaints about box five not being his and Raoul's instead that night. She knew too that his presents in what was suppose to be his box enraged him as well and it was only then that Christine realized that her angel had probably witnessed the few looks that Christine and Raoul had shared as well. She had felt the way his eyes had pierced her face with a warning and at the turn of his cape and with the continuance of the show she realized that something very disastrous indeed was about to occur. Her secret theory was proven when the screams began echoing through the backstage just as she was about to take the stage she heard the name of Joseph Buquet being heard and something about a noose… Christine bit her lip and swallowed hard wishing she could ban the insecurity inside of her away and find the same solace she felt in the lair of the Opera House. Glancing down at her feet, she knew his home was there beneath the many layers of brick and dust. She knew he would sit at his organ with heartache forever replenished in his eyes if she were to leave him, it was difficult to ever imagine him at all weak… that very same genius who had very nearly seduced her with his voice.

"Christine? Christine, are you alright?" The concerned voice of her childhood friend rang in her ears and although she appreciated his favoritism towards her, it was obvious that he would never understand the situation she had gotten herself into.

"Christine, I can protect you. Whatever this thing is, I won't let him hurt you." He stated firmly standing closer behind her than she realized.

"That's just it Raoul." She stated with a heavy sigh. "I don't need your protection from him. He…as disturbed as he his…I know he won't hurt me." She stated weakly brushing past him while avoiding his eyes.

"But Christine," He said annoyed with her reaction to the dangerous situation. "If this man is as obsessed with you as you suspect and he's prone to a violent nature than perhaps…" Christine however cut him off before he could speak another world.

"But I know him Raoul." She said while gracefully stroking the delicate petals of her rose. "That violent nature he holds so dear is only second to how he feels about me! Although those feelings are something I may never be able to exchange to the fullest extent! I know him Raoul…" She approached her companion kindly and smoothed a misplaced piece of hair from his face. Her gentle misdemeanor returning once more.

"You need not worry for me my friend. I am fully aware of what I am doing." Or at least I hope I do.

"Friend Christine? Is that all we are these days? He laughed timidly, not realizing that another pair of ears was just as eager to hear the answer as he.

Christine smiled weakly and kissed Raoul on the cheek hoping to wipe away all his fears with the simple notion. The act of kindness was rewarded with a looking of knowing and the return of a tender hug that Christine gladly accepted without hesitation.

"I care for you Raoul I always have and always will. You know that our friendship means more to me than words can possibly describe…you were my first love and nothing can take those memories from us. And no matter what happens I promise that I'll always be grateful for those memories." She said breaking the embrace and smiling sincerely at him.

"We can make new memories Christine…" He whispered into the night softly grasping her chin to make her eyes to meet his own. The combination of hope and love in his eyes was too much for Christine to bear because although she cared for Raoul she knew that the future he was referring to was one she would never quite be satisfied with.

"I'm sorry Raoul…" She said barely auditable as she stepping away slightly. She turned her back on his pain and looked upon the glorious lights of Paris in fascination and then once more to the rose that securely held a bold black ribbon. "But we can't be together."

"Why Christine why not! What kind of hold does this creature have on you that would make you make such a rash decision! I love you Christine, I want to take care of you for the rest of our lives isn't that enough!"

"No it's not." She replied simply.

"Why not!" He exclaimed pacing around the rooftop violently now as she stood there with a pleasant smile gracing her face.

"Because," She said turning around to face his frustrated image once more. "My heart belongs to someone else."

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So what do we think? Love it hate it? Want to read more or just tar and feather me for even trying? One-shot? Keep going? Let me know!


	2. Introductions

ey everybody thank you all so much for the positive reviews! I must say I was slightly surprised at all the good vibes I got from everybody's comments! Please continue to read and review and I'll give you all smores and hugs!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing! Still doing the poor dance

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The Opera Populaire, which was normally busy with a wide variety of activity, was now silent due to the late hour of the night. Even so there would normally be at least one soul or two lingering around doing the odd chores that could only be done in the privacy of the night. However due to the violent activities that had occurred only hours previously the managers and instructors ordered an immediate curfew to everyone who lived within the dormitories of the ballet and chorus houses. They claimed it was only for the safety of their Opera workers and assured everyone within the property limits that everything would be taken care of in the morning and the proper authorities would handle the person or people responsible for the tragedies of the evening. These thoughtless words were an attempt at comfort that they too would not be the Phantom's next victims. The lame speech however did not sooth the nerves of anyone. If nothing else observing the Detectives and guards of the Paris Justice Department taking down the body of the deceased stagehand only increased the tension that loomed silently in the empty hallways.

Christine quietly unlocked the door to her dressing room careful not to disturb or awake anyone else who might be nearby. The only things that greeted her as she entered the room was her own distinct sigh and the powerful smell of a wide variety of flowers that she had received after her performance as Elissa. The only flower that held any of her attention however was the brilliant rose that she still held in her hand, she was still protecting it from any element that might dare distort it.

She sighed dramatically once again and let her knees give out from under her and allowed the rest of her body to follow as she landed on the small sofa, lying down gracefully. Christine rested silently in the dark for several moments before realizing that she neglected to light any lamps or candles after entering her room. She sat up somewhat distorted at the realization. It was odd to her how quickly she had adapted to the absence of light. And more so how easily she had accepted the realm of the night that she had once been known to fear.

Christine made her way from the sofa to a nearby lamp where she eventually allowed some light to be noticed. She did perform this action slowly not knowing that a tall figure was standing behind her watching her every move. But suddenly she felt a shiver run through her spine and although she had her suspicions of whom the potential intruder could be she wasn't sure until she heard a familiar voice whisper in her ear:

"Christine."

She found herself gasping in spite of herself and nearly knocked the lamp of the table in the process of turning around to meet the face of her angel once more. He stood up unemotional and waited for her to regain control of her breath. Yet before she had fully calmed herself he replied: "I'm terribly sorry if I startled you my dear."

The normal composition of this angel who had just murdered a man enraged Christine. How could he dare speak her name and apologies for such a harmless offence after he's just taking the life of another man! She screamed at herself inside her head knowing that it was because her angel lacked many emotions, but remorse seemed to be one more for her weep over.

The though made Christine call out and turn her back on the man she knew as her angel of music. This response seemed to worry him as he placed his hands on each of her shoulders and asked, "What is it my love? What makes you so distressed at this hour?" He instantly felt her body tense and she turned around to greet him with her tear stained face and eyes that seem to hold fury for the deceased stranger.

"How dare you!" The outburst surprised her companion and he stepped back almost immediately.

"Have you no shame? You come in here acting as though you deserve some sort of affection from me after what you did tonight?" Christine found herself shaking as she said these words, for she had never spoken to her angel in such a manner, yet alone raised her voice to him. The act of disrespect seemed to not anger the Phantom but instead only made him more alert to her anger and increased his curiosity of the lovely creature in front of him.

"My God! You…you killed a man tonight! Don't you realize what you've done? Not only have you put yourself in danger put the rest of the staff as well! The police will be here at every show I'm sure…and that man you killed many not have been an innocent one but you had no right to take his life!" She sobbed out these last few words before retreating to her sofa where she buried her face in her hands and cried out the last of her remaining tears and stopped them short with a sob. The Phantom held his head high still and said nothing but instead watched her ever move which was clearly motivated by nothing more than sorrow and nevertheless chose to say nothing.

"So is that it then?" She asked quietly barely looking up at him still. "Will you not even deny it? Or for that matter even say anything to defend yourself?" Several moments passed by in utter silence and Christine was about to give up when she heard him finally reply.

"Even if I claimed to not have killed that loathsome stagehand would you believe me?" Before she could even respond he continued. "Of course not! How could you with your Viscount by your side poisoning your mind with every idiotic idea that comes through his foppish mind!" He bellowed in a gruff and unsteady voice. Christine only replied with a sigh in annoyance and stood up angrily.

"How could you possibly have the nerve to spy on a private conversation? You sir no nothing of what you speak of!" She turned her back on him violently and silently resisted the urge to slap him across the face. But realistically she knew such an act would make her sorry afterward. So she returned to the sofa to rest her weary body for a moment before letting the point continue.

Several moments later Christine arose from her position on the sofa and walked with unsure feet to the dressing mirror before sitting down and attempting to fix the mess of matted hair upon her head. The only sound in the room was that of her brush making it's way through the mass of soft curls around her face. Until Christine finally found the words she so longed to speak.

"You cannot expect me to keep these secrets alive for you my angel. It…it breaks my heart to know that you may never feel any remorse for that man whose life you stole tonight. But perhaps what is worse is knowing that the motivation of his death had to do me with me and I..." She shook slightly due to a sob that escaped her lips and the unsaid sentence finished itself with silence. But the dark figure that stood by her side said nothing of the sort about it.

"Come. You are tired and need your rest. As I do not want others to be banging on your door in the middle of the night looking for you, you shall stay in our home tonight." He gently took her hand and although she was still perturbed she found herself being led through the two-way mirror and escorted through the catacombs of the Opera House to the lair where he resigned. She was simply too fatigued to argue, and in the back of her mind she somehow knew she would rest at least somewhat easier when she knew her angel was there watching her, protecting her.

The journey from the inner tunnels to the lake seemed shorter somehow than the first time Christine had traveled through them. In fact she found herself in more than familiar territory and was reassured by the cool dank home, which her angel referred to as "there's". Christine looked away from the approaching home and closed her eyes shut attempting to will away the headache that was quickly growing in her skull. The pain was sudden and sharp and she discovered that any and all resolve she had left for arguing was gone. It was almost as though her Phantom could read her mind because he responded to her wincing with a quiet and somber remark.

"We shall be there soon my love." His voice was somewhat calming, yet Christine said nothing in response.

After leaving the boat and securing it's place along shore Christine's angel escorted her from the boat to what he had called 'her room' and saw fit to leave her there on her own.

"Sleep well my angel." And with that he disappeared into the shadows leaving her once again alone with her own thoughts to consume her.

Once she knew she was totally and utterly alone Christine threw herself face first on the firm bed that was placed in the corner and cried despite her self. The confusion was simply overwhelming and as deeply as she cared for her angel she knew better than too hope that he would ever change. His temper was something that even she could not control. And the confidence she felt earlier when informing Raoul of her of her decision was completely depleted as a consequence she cried alone in the dark while feeling nothing of the relieve she had hoped for, but instead feeling more isolated than ever before.

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Despite his best efforts the angel Christine Daae cried for could not find the emotion he told himself he should be feeling. As he sat at his organ he found himself frustrated at the lack of music that normally flowed from his fingers when Christine was around. Something was clogging his mind that he couldn't quite explain- something just didn't feel quite right. He knew his beloved was upset and normally he would have killed anyone who had taken the unease out of her as he did but what could he do about it now? She was already aching for him, that much he knew. But no words of reassurance could come to his mind…but perhaps what was worse was that no music would come from his fingers.

A glance at his muse would surly do him some good he decided solemnly. Upon entering the hallway that led to Christine's room the Phantom had an uneasy feeling erupting from his side. Despite his best efforts he continued with caution to his darling's room and the sight that awaited him nearly broke the last of the heart he had left.

The door, which was slightly ajar, opened easily at his efforts. He instantly recognized the shallow breathing of Christine who was lying on the bed he had especially designed for her taste and style. He approached her sleeping form slowly and the beauty that greeted him when he glanced upon her took his breath away. Her eyelids rested firmly closed against her face while her recently brushed curls lay unorganized and frantic amongst the pillow. But the one detail that disturbed him the most was the tears that blemished her delicate face. The obvious look of misery that was planted on her features was nearly enough to rip the Phantom's spirit out and before he knew it a feeling of guilt consumed him almost as powerful as the love he felt for his Christine. Unknowing what to do other than to not wake up his adored inspiration the Phantom moved frantically from the room with his own anguish to his bedroom where he instituted his own fist through a nearby wall before he realized what he was doing. He wept openly into the dark…loathing every sin he had every adopted that would possibly make her unhappy.

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As Christine awoke from her restless sleep she had an instant feeling of foreboding. Something unpleasant was occurring and as a result she rushed out of her bed regardless of her still pounding head. After she had actually exited her room however she felt even more apprehensive. The lair was abnormally silent. Generally music would fill the air or at least there was usually some sign of impending music. The feeling of awaiting despair was unmistakable and evident in her voice as she called out into the darkness.

"Angel? Are you there?"

Her question remained unanswered in the darkness. What if he had left her to go to the surface yet again? The situation seemed unlikely but entirely possible. What if her emotion had made him so uncomfortable that he just allowed her loneliness to come and consume her? She continued to call out as she explored the hollow halls and dark passageways until she finally descended upon the wing of his home that belonged to him and him alone.

"Angel are you here?" Christine let herself into a room, which appeared to be dark, and nothing more than that. A soft sobbing sound coming from the corner however made her change her mind about leaving the room and attempting to search another for her angel.

"Christine?" He asked from her from his realm of misery in the corner. The desperation in his voice made Christine rush to his side immediately. She was beyond words when she finally found him: knees pulled up to his chest, head downward and his entire form shaking beneath his sobs. And as he looked up at her with tears streaked down his own face she nearly began to weep once more.

Her angel now beside himself with grief broke down any last resolve and knelt besides Christine's confused form in the darkness.

"Forgive me Christine forgive me! These awful things I do own no excuse. I can't help it my love…everything I do is for you! Everything! My heart and soul are yours for the rest of time and I only ever thought to further your career! I swear it! You deserve nothing more than the beauty of the stage lights on your glorious face! But I never meant to hurt you as I did…please…Christine…forgive me…"

He continued his pleading by bruising the hem of her dress with his tears and wrapping his arms around her shaking waist. Her hands rested uneasily on his shoulders, unaware of how to respond to this obvious showing of regret and love. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard; silently praying that God would answer her unsaid prayer.

"Oh my angel." She pleaded meeting him at eye level on the ground where he knelt. "Although your intentions were good, I fear for your soul…and mine as well." She paused for a short time allowing a few stubborn tears to make their way down her cheekbones.

"Oh no! Oh please don't cry for this wretched demon that begs only for your happiness! I don't deserve your unshed tears!" He let his head hang in shame once more and covered his burning eyes with his shakings hands. "I love you far too much to watch you weep for a monster such as myself."

"You claim your love for me and yet I know nothing of your life other than the violence you lust for." She almost laughed at this proclamation. "…I don't even know by what name to call you other than that of 'my angel'…"

He sighed in defeat knowing that if he was to gain the love of this woman he must hold himself back no longer.

"Erik." He whispered into the night as he wiped away her tears. A small smile grew on his face as he said the foreign name on his tongue for the first time in several years. "My name is Erik. And you need to know nothing more than that I love you with my whole heart and will do so until the end of time…"

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Hey there what do you think? Bad? Good? Should I get a new hobby? Please review!


	3. Favors and Promises

Hey everybody thanks again for all the great reviews! Keep'um coming and I'll keep producing chapters!

Disclaimer: I own N-O-T-H-I-N-G!

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The vigorous streets of Paris were busy with a wide variety of life on this particularly warm February morning. The odd weather seemed to bring out the masses of people who would normally take shelter against the cold winter months. However the sun had decided to make a rare and prompt appearance and lavish the city in its triumphant warmth. Children could be spotted playing and running about on almost every street corner. While venders and market merchants rang in the new day with their voices and the promises of low prices and fantastic offers. Carriages of all shapes, sizes, and forms crowded the streets and laughter could be heard from the many maids of wealthy women who were shopping for some household or another. On the brink of the city was a small café that was supported by a small brick building and good coffee. Waiting in an impatient manner in this noteworthy café was a very agitated young man by the name of The Viscount de Chagny.

The Viscount was tapping his fingers edgily against the table he sat at and rudely refused any waitress who attempted to serve him any kind of meal. For you see the Viscount on the brightly warm morning was waiting for an old cohort of his father's with whom he had to ask an important favor of. As he extracted his pocket-watch once more to observe the time the man he was waiting for entered and smiled amiably at the young Viscount.

"Raoul my boy!" The older gentlemen wearing more affluent clothing than the rest of the café's customers extended his hand excitedly. And although the Viscount accepted the handshake and greeted the older sir politely although a look of dejection was apparent on his face.

The mature gentleman was oblivious to this still, as he started making orders to waitress and extending his greetings to the other customers in the room. For although this wealthy sir was indeed better-off than most he was still an unusual jolly old fellow who showed no prejudices to anyone for their financial situation. Eventually he turned his attention back to the Viscount who looked less than pleased at his friendliness.

"Well, well, well, I must say I was more than surprised when I received your message this morning! It's been so long since I spoken with anyone in your family! I swear it feels like almost a lifetime ago. You know that wife of mine is always at me for not keeping in touch with my old friends but I always tell her how I keep meaning too-"

"Please monsieur!" Replied the Viscount to his associate's babbling. The gentleman now sitting across from him looked rather concerned at the young fellow's outburst and only now noticed the appearance at which the youthful man kept: the hollow cheekbones, the bloodshot eyes, and the clothes which looked as though they had been slept in. At this realization the Viscount's companion leaned in forward and looked around to make sure that no one was spying on their conversation before whispering:

"My God man you look awful! What in the world happened that has gotten you so distraught?" He asked with genuine kindness.

Raoul looked up thoughtfully from the table his eyes never leaving the elderly man's for a spit moment before he responded to the question.

"Aubert, how long have you and my family been acquainted?" He asked as he ruffled a hand through his disheveled hair.

The man with the large stomach and the quickly graying hair seemed to brighten at this question. And he leaned back to sit in his chair as the waitress served his breakfast and he began to answer.

"Well nearly as far back as I can remember! After all, I met your grandfather when we were mere lads in grade school, and we became re-acquainted after we each attended university, then after your father was born I was appointed his Godfather, and I was the one who introduced your mother and father for God's sakes!" He laughed fondly at these memories. "I remember how eager your father was to speak with her, but he was too shy to introduce himself so I took the liberty-"

"Again monsieur please! I beg of you to stop your babbling and listen to a request I have to make of you!" At the least the harsh words the Viscount spoke appeared to sting and almost hurt but was quickly recovered with an apology.

"I am sorry Monsieur Bartlett…but I am afraid a distressing situation has exposed me to some rather vicious manners."

"I understand son, but what in the world could have you so troubled? Tell me what I can do to help and I will not hesitate to do so." He stated reassuringly.

Raoul sighed and willed himself to continue. Was it possible that he could really do this to Christine? Depriving her of her teacher? He couldn't ever imagine denying any demand she could make of him especially the one to stay out of this Phantom affair…but this was different if that-that thing could easily murder others and hypnotize Christine than there was no telling what he was capable of doing to her. He knew he shouldn't have let her return to that damned opera house last night! Yet still…she had begged of him to trust her judgment and promised that she would send word in the morning that she was well and safe. He felt unsure even then, but after a long night of thinking he was certain that Christine no longer had control over her actions, somehow this monster had forced her to succumb to him. And Raoul knew that at this point he was the only one who understood the situation fully and could help her at this stage.

"Good sir, you have been the Chief Commissioner of Paris Police for quite some time have you not?" He asked nervously.

"Well, nearly twenty-five years now I have protected this city with the best of my ability you know that Raoul." He replied to the apparent question.

"Your position requires action to be taken at any cost…provided if there is enough of a disturbance to cause a commotion?"

"Well yes of course…Raoul my boy what are you getting at here?"

Deciding the point needed to be taken at this time Raoul finally revealed the reason for the informal visit.

"Monsieur Chief Bartlett, I believe I have some information that might help you catch a ghost…"

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The anomalous climate that the rest of Paris was enjoying was oblivious to the only two occupants of the home under the old opera house.

As Erik awoke a deep sense of panic overtook him in the unfamiliar situation. Just as he was about to arise for his place on the bed a warm body against his convinced him to do other wise. At first the sight of his beloved confused Erik sleepily soundly next to him. Certainly it was a rare and glorious sight to behold indeed. But what surprised Erik the most was not the angelic beauty that possessed her face this early morning, but instead the way in which she, like himself had been sleeping. Her arm, which rested delicately upon his chest and the mass of brown curls lying softly against his side, proved that she had indeed stayed that way the majority of the evening. Erik was amazed at this showing of unconscious affection. It thrilled him to know that after a night of such confusion they had reached some sort of understanding in the late hours of the evening.

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After each participant had cried out the last of their remain tears they agreed it would be sensible to rest upon the settee for a short moment to collect their thoughts. Christine who seemed comfortable at first quickly grew tense and nervous. Her movement from the futon to the back of the room where she quickly wrapped her arms around herself as she began to unceremoniously shiver.

"Christine? What is it? What's wrong?" Erik asked rising to join her by her side.

The odd climate that the rest of Paris was enjoying was oblivious to the only two occupants of the home under the old opera house.

As Erik awoke a deep sense of panic overtook him in the unfamiliar situation. Just as he was about to arise from his place on the bed a warm body against his convinced him to do other wise. At first the sight of his beloved confused Erik as she slept soundly next to him. Certainly it was a rare and glorious sight to behold. But what surprised Erik the most was not the angelic beauty that possessed her face this early morning, but instead the way in which she like himself had been sleeping. Her arm, which rested delicately upon his chest and the mass of brown curls lying softly against his side, proved that she had indeed stayed that way the majority of the evening. Erik was amazed at this showing of unconscious affection. It thrilled him to know that after a night of such confusion they had reached some sort of understanding in the late hours of the evening.

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After each party ad cried out their remain tears they agreed it would be sensible to rest upon the sofa for a short moment to collect their thoughts. Christine who seemed comfortable at first quickly grew tense and nervous. Her movement from the sofa to the back of the room where she quickly wrapped her arms around herself as she began to unceremoniously shiver.

"Christine? What is it what's wrong?" Erik asked rising to join her by her side.

Christine appeared to be taken several deep breaths before continuing. "Erik, there is something I must ask of you."

Erik secretly enjoyed the sound of his name on her lips but instead of expressing this he responded her to her anxious nature by attempting to console her.

"Anything Christine! Anything you ask of me will be done! I -" He exclaimed excitedly as he took her hand into his own and proclaimed his love for her once more.

"No Erik-" She shook her hand from his and crossed the room with great speed to avoid his hopeful gaze.

"You don't understand." She began. "This is a request I am not sure you can oblige." She stated softly under her breath. This sign of hesitation frighten Erik slightly, and although he would never admit it out loud to anyone but Christine.

He walked silently to her shaking form and wrapped his own arms around hers. "Whatever you ask of me Christine…I can deny you nothing…" He whispered the statement into her ear and waited for her reaction to take place. But all she did was turn around and caress the cheek opposite of the white mask.

"You must promise me that no more brutality will take place with your hands Erik." The request however simple, held a powerful meaning that both parties were aware of and said nothing of. Erik however didn't hesitate to respond to the wish that his angel asked of him.

"As long as I have you here to wish this of my angel…no more violence will come from these hands. I promise." He stated firmly as he stroked the curls behind her face.

"I simply cannot deal with any more guilt that blood was shed on my behalf!" Christine went on to explain further. "I could not bare it…" She sighed sadly.

"Christine." He prompted softly forcing her to look him in the eye.

"You have my word…" He smiled softly as her expression softened and her body relaxed into his.

"Thank you my angel." She whispered as she clung to his shoulder.

"It is I who should be thanking you." He whispered more so to himself as he remembered her conversation with the Viscount on the rooftop.

They stayed silent in their moment of comfort until Christine spoke up once more. "Well I believe I shall retire for the evening." She stated with a tried smile.

"Oh of course my dear, I suppose I have forgotten the late hour as well. If you shall see it fit I'll escort you back to your chambers."

She nodded in agreement and allowed him to lead the way through the vast hallway that was empty except for her room. "Erik?" She called out to him as he bid her goodnight.

"Yes Christine?"

She fidgeted with her thumbs nervously until she could vocalize what her wanted to express. "I fear I have another request to ask of you this evening." Erik waited apprehensively for fear of what she would ask next.

"Do you think that perhaps you might stay with me? Just until I fall asleep of course!" She finished carefully. "After all I have a rather difficult time sleeping in unfamiliar places. And I-" She stuttered quickly trying desperately to avoid his intense gaze.

"Of course my dearest." He said leading her by hand into the bedroom, where she made herself comfortable he thought it appropriate to sing a soft melody to her attractive form.

"_Night-time sharpens,_

_heightens each sensation . . ._

_Darkness stirs and_

_wakes imagination . . ._

_Silently the senses_

_abandon their defenses . . ._

_Slowly, gently_

_night unfurls its splendor . . ._

_Grasp it, sense it -_

_tremulous and tender . . ._

_Turn your face away_

_from the garish light of day,_

_Turn your thoughts away_

_from cold, unfeeling light -_

_and listen to_

_the music of the night" _

At the sound of the familiar song Christine smiled and closed her eyes leading her angel, her Erik, closer by her side so that he sat next to her nearly sleeping form.

"_Softly, deftly,_

_music shall surround you . . ._

_Feel it, hear it,_

_closing in around you . . ._

_Open up your mind,_

_let your fantasies unwind,_

_in this darkness which_

_you know you cannot fight -_

_the darkness of_

_the music of the night . . ."_

"_Let your mind_

_start a journey through a_

_strange new world!_

_Leave all thoughts_

_of the world_

_you knew before!_

_Let your soul_

_Take you where you_

_long to be!_

_Only then_

_can you belong_

_to me . . ."_

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As Erik relived the memories of the previous night he glanced upon his sleeping angel that he held in his arms. As she slowly began to stir in her sleep Erik found myself yet again enthralled by her exquisiteness. But to the most distinguished surprise he discovered himself smiling.

Indeed this was going to dazzling day.

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There we go people some fluffy goodness for you! Hope you enjoyed this chapter (my computer made it rather difficult to complete) Anyway as usual I'm up for any ideas and please R&R!


	4. Ennui De Brassage

Hey people! I think you've all earned some hugs for all the reviews you've been giving me! I really am thrilled to know that you guys are enjoying this fic. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

Disclaimer: I own it all! (I wish)

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As a nameless messenger boy approached the De Chagny estate he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the unseasonable heat. Accordingly he slowed his pace and wiped his brow of the sweat that had cultivated there in the short distance from the Opera House to the main residence where his destination lye. The boy of no older than twelve remembered the young woman who had given him what she called "a very important letter of reassurance" when his confusion had heightened an older woman approached and rolled her eyes while pushing the young girl aside and planting two small gold coins in his hand.

"Make sure this letter receives it occupant young man." She stated with an odd sternness. He had nodded and took one last look at the young brunette behind her who rolled up the ends of her dress anxiously. He tipped his hat to that woman who was so beside herself with some sort of worry that she hadn't even paid him any mind.

It had been surprising difficult to locate directions to the Patron's acreage as the boy soon realized. Despite the fact that the estate was nearby in distance, it was tucked deeply behind several roads and dirt trails. The boy feared his lateness would result in a cut of pay thus he quickened his pace as he finally reached the manor's property limits.

When arriving he found himself out of breath and quite winded, yet before he had any opportunity to knock on the brass door bell a rather annoyed young Patron opened it.

"Have you no sense boy? Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this letter!" He snapped angrily as he snatched the envelope away.

"Well what are you waiting for?" He yelled at the boy. "Go on go! Get away from my home!" He shouted crossly as the boy ran across the lawn and disappeared behind a grimy avenue.

Raoul muttered under his breath about how distrustful today's youth was as he slammed the door shut behind him. He began to shred open the envelope in a savage manner not caring what the servants passing by thought. His raging only stopped as he recognized the fine handwriting that belonged to Christine.

_Dearest Raoul,_

_I thank you for your patience in receiving this letter. I realize it is far past a day's time since I promised to send word but a slight ailing situation occurred that required my attention. Do not worry for me now, for everything is as it should be._

_Sincerely,_

_ Christine._

A deep sense of relief flooded through Raoul as he sighed in rapture and closed his eyes bring the letter to his chest and clinging to the only portion of his childhood friend that he currently had. But suddenly his eyes flapped open in realization as he re-read the letter. Frenzied thoughts began to consume his mind. What sort of 'ailing situation' could Christine be speaking of? Was she sick? Did she require some sort of medical attention? Maybe- Oh no. He thought.

'It couldn't possibly be could it!'

'My God! What if that despicable fiend has done something to her! Damn I knew I should have gone to see her as soon as I didn't hear from her! Why oh why didn't I just trust my instincts and tend to her, as I should have? And my God what must she think of me now that I have neglected her…?'

Raoul hesitated no longer and called his servants to ready his horse and prepare his belongings for the day. He rushed upstairs to retrieve a special item from the game room that his grandfather had left behind, as a gift from his will.

…Raoul loaded the small pistol and proceeded to the Opera Populaire.

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"Christine you mustn't worry yourself so!" Pleaded Meg as she watched her friend recklessly pace back and forth across her room.

"Honestly Meg how could I have been so irresponsible? Raoul made such a big deal of my safety so as a consequence I promised to send word to him shortly after that pitiful Hannibal performance…" Christine stopped pacing at that point and winced at the upsetting memory.

"Oh Christine…" Meg approached her friend with a calm tone. "You won't be able to rid anyone of their worries if you make yourself sick with your own!" She placed a gentle hand on the brunette's shoulder.

Christine turned around and smiled at her lifelong friend unenthusiastically. Perhaps she was right. It was certainly conceivable that she was simply overreacting to her unpunctual message. Perhaps Raoul would not be so worked up after all…then again she had spent nearly the last full two days with Erik underneath the Opera House. At the thought she scolded herself once more. How could she have lost track of the time so effortlessly? She tried to sooth herself with excuses about forgetting the extensive measure of time because of the lack of knowing the difference between night and day. She told herself she was so excited about Erik revealing his nearly finished Opera to her. That of course took some prompting but as he had swore: he was incapable of denying her anything.

He had delivered the script of Anita to her with a somewhat uneasy hand; it seemed to Christine that he was almost afraid of her disapproving of his work. But after singing even a few meager notes of that piece, she found herself enthralled by the magical work of art. As a result the two practiced on the work for hours. Even now as she spoke her voice was rare and tender, still… the trance his masterpiece had put her under was well worth it.

Yet this was no pardon of any kind! She knew better than to foil with her friend's emotions! Christine sighed to herself and began pacing once more. She had made a promise to Raoul and as hauntingly beautiful as Erik music was it was no justified defense!

"Oh Meg what am I to do?" She asked throwing her face in her hands.

Meg hesitated before answering. "I know not what you speak of Christine. This… mysterious teacher of yours…why does Raoul hate him so?"

Christine bit her lip, unsure of if she should continue with her explanation.

"Meg there is a portion of the evening that I did not share with you."

Her female friend crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow questionably. "What in the world are you talking about Christine?"

"After Hannibal Raoul and I went to the rooftop…I was scared and said some things I probably shouldn't have…Raoul offered to protect me. Meg…he said he loved me."

Meg gasped at the exciting words and pulled her friend into a genuine hug. "Oh congratulations Christine! I want to know every detail! Is he officially courting you now? Or did you two just go on ahead and get engaged? Oh Christine this is so fantastic! Who else knows? I am the first you told?"

"Meg calm yourself!" Christine laughed as she reached out her arms to Meg who was now jumping up and down as though she herself were a little child.

"Raoul confessed his love for me Meg…but I confessed nothing for him but the promise of friendship."

"But Christine I don't understand. I thought you cared for Raoul."

"Oh I do Meg I do!" Christine stated quickly to correct her assumption. "I just…don't care for him in a romantic way."

"Oh, I see." Meg was very visibly attempting to hide her disappointment at this stage in their conversation.

"How did he take it?" She eventually asked.

At this Christine hesitated. She wasn't quite sure how to respond to the question. After all Raoul hadn't exactly lost his temper. But somehow as he left the rooftop that night he didn't look at all satisfied or even reassured by her decision to remain a student of the infamous Phantom. If nothing else he even seemed undeniably infuriated, an emotion of his Christine chose to ignore at the time. However now as she began to recall the fuming features an apprehensive feeling grew in her stomach, and somehow she knew that Raoul's stubbornness would not allow him to back off so easily.

A hysterical knocking on her door disrupted her thoughts and their conversation and before she could even answer the door a disheveled young woman entered looking alarmed and fretful.

"Mademoiselle Daae! Thank goodness I have found you!" She screeched as she presented a sloppy greeting to Meg and Christine who she quickly ran up to.

"Charlotte what's wrong?" Christine asked the girl whom she now recognized as the young assistant of Monsieur Andre.

"Oh it is simply dreadful Mademoiselle Daae! The Viscount is in Monsieur Andre's office throwing around vicious threats and claiming that if he does not witness your presents immediately that he will come down here searching for you himself. He seems awfully upset Mademoiselle."

"Christine I think it is best if you go with Charlotte." The new voice startled the three girls, but they were relieved to detect Madam Giry's authoritarian like form standing in the doorway.

"Meg you will come with me. We have much to discuss."

With the orders dispensed the girls bid each other farewell and retreated to their separate sides of the Opera House. Christine, being led down the corridor to the manager's office and Meg tailing quickly behind her mother.

"Mother why are we walking so fast? Are we in a hurry to go somewhere?" Meg asked with slight sarcasm in her voice.

"Young lady you will stay away from this situation between Christine and the Viscount. I fear nothing good will come from it and knowing you, you'll want into be aware of every feature that they'll have to offer."

"But mother-"

"Do not back talk me young lady. No gossip, no letting that despicable curiosity getting the best of you. Is that understood?"

"Yes Madam'"

"Very well" She said in a softer tone. "Go off and practice your lessons now." Meg nodded in response and quickly headed down the empty hall toward her own room. However she lingered in the corridor for a brief moment to watch her mother unsettled shadow looking uncertainly in the direction Christine had just departed to

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"Ms. Daae! There you are! Now we can finally get this matter settled-"

"Christine!" Interrupted the Viscount from Monsieur Firmin's introduction. Charlotte quickly excused herself and left the room as quickly as she had entered not longing to stay any longer than was necessary.

As Raoul approached the disenchanted Christine he took her hands into his own and whispered for their ears only. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am Raoul. Didn't you receive my letter?"

"Yes, but it did little to harness my concern-"

A gruff sound of someone clearing their throats made the couple realize that they were not alone and they both presented themselves properly for an explanation.

"Our kind Patron here seems to think that you are in some kind of danger Mademoiselle Daae." Began Andre. "In fact he claims that's you are in some kind of danger due to an admirer of some sort?"

Christine eyed Raoul wearily before answering the room's silent hostility. "I am not sure where your Patron gets his information Sir, but I can assure you that I have had no such trouble from anyone."

"I see." Said Monsieur Firmin sitting down, clearly annoyed with the false drama.

"Sir, Christine is mistaken, she is confused. This devotee of hers is not entirely-"

"You sir," Said Christine as she stepped up to match the Viscount's gaze with her own fiery eyes. "Are the one whom is mistaken." The unsaid threat in her expression was enough to make the Viscount change his mind about continuing.

"Very well." Said Andre with a sigh. "I trust we will have no more trouble on this subject?"

"Oh course not sir." Stated Christine with a false smile as she confidently left the room. And after bedding his own quick goodbyes Raoul followed her.

"Christine wait! Christine please!" He called after her rapidly moving form. Finally however she stopped just as they passed a substantial group of stage workers who had stared at their obvious quarrel with humor in their eyes.

"How dare you!" She spat at him as soon as their party stopped. Luckily they were encased in shadows and were hidden away from the ears and eyes of any approaching figures.

"How dare I! What of you Christine? Where have you been these last two days?"

"That sir is no business of yours…I can't believe you did this Raoul! As if the mangers and this whole place isn't suspicious enough of me you had to go and act so childish that they'll probably be more so!"

"Well forgive me if I'm concerned for your well-being Christine! Someone has to be! After all you just associate yourself with murders and villains of all sorts now-!"

"Watch your tone Raoul, someone will hear you!" She said, as she looked about frantically.

" Christine…" He shook his head as though he were scolding a small child. "I am sorry if you see this as a threat against you in any way but you must know that this man cannot be trusted. What if he tries to hurt you? I cannot allow that!"

"You cannot allow that? Just who do you think you are my good Patron? You ask me for trust yet when I ask it of you…you mean to punish me! I have asked for your support on this matter Raoul and I insist that you respect my wishes!"

"Your words speak belong to that of insanity Christine! This thing has done nothing but deceive you-"

"And you have not done the same Raoul? You told me you would authenticate my choice. Now what of that?"

The Viscount gritted his teeth impatiently and leaned his fists against the wall beside her. "You had better start thinking about what is best for yourself…and what is best for that 'precious angel' of yours Christine."

The threatening tone made Christine shiver and she now wondered why Raoul was so suddenly slinging to the inside of his jacket pocket.

"Raoul what are you speaking of?"

He looked up at her frightful facial appearance then and Christine noticed that he was smiling something dark and twisted beneath his own handsome features. "Even Phantoms aren't immortal Christine…"


	5. A Temporary Farwell

Thank you all so much for all the positive reviews and being specific on your thoughts and opinions (it really helps the writing process) Anyway, enjoy the latest chapter and I'm sure I'll hear from you **all** really soon!

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"_You had better start thinking about what is best for yourself…and what is best for that 'precious angel' of yours Christine." _

_The threatening tone made Christine shiver and she now wondered why Raoul was so suddenly slinging to the inside of his jacket pocket._

"_Raoul what are you speaking of?"_

_He looked up at her frightful facial appearance then and Christine noticed that he was smiling something dark and twisted beneath his own handsome features. "Even Phantoms aren't immortal Christine…"_

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The shady passageways that had become so recognizable to her were now confusing and leery. Typically the expedition wouldn't have been so elongated as it was…then again perhaps it wasn't taking any longer than usual, perchance it was just her intense imagination that was making it feel that way. And maybe it was the same element that was causing her to rush down here so quickly, she could no longer deny her intuition however and therefore plunged into that strange and seductive darkness once more.

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_" Raoul...you can't possibly mean-"_

_"Christine I made a promise to myself that I would protect you at any and all costs." He confirmed in a softer tone. "And through I've never taken a life before I would gladly do so now if it predestined that you would be out of harm's way."_

_The shock and horror that laced Christine's pale frame could not be denied. "Get away from me." Shakily she reached out for the wall behind her, longing for any kind of steadiness. "I never asked for your protection Raoul. And though I know you would willingly give it to me, it is far from necessary. So just stay away from me from now on." She whispered as she gradually began moving away from him._

_"Christine wait!" Called out the Viscount as she made out for a full out sprint towards her dressing room. Something in his eyes had made her frightened beyond words for her tutor and friend...and something about the manner in which he had spoken himself to her made her all the more aware that he might in fact place some sort of impairment upon him._

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So now Christine called out in the everlasting night for her angel as she began to fear the worst from her old friend. What if he already had a plan in mind? He has lots of recourses, my God what if hires someone to pursue Erik ? Surly he would find his home? What then? Something told her in her heart that all the begging in the world couldn't permit Raoul for whatever it was he intended to do...

"Erik!" She called out once more and afterwards she briefly allowed the stir of the echoes to bounce from her throbbing heart. "Erik! Erik are you here?" She looked about wildly before proceeding deeper into the halls of the subversive retreat. A deep sense of relief found her when she reached the lake and witnessed her Erik playing his organ in an relentless fashion.

"Erik!" She screamed as she recognized him through the shadows.

At the sound of her voice the music ended immediately, and the lair grew strangely quiet. Before she even realized what was happening she felt a presents by her side encasing his eerie arms around her quivering shoulders.

"Christine? What is it? What had injured you so?" He begged as she buried herself in his embrace and began sobbing.

"Oh Erik!" Was all she could manage before her cries took over her verbal skills entirely.

"Come with me my dear. You are safe now, it's alright." He continued to whisper sweet words of reassurance into her ear as he led them to his residence on the other side of the lake, desperate to contain the many cries that punctured her voice.

Before Christine realized any time had passed they were securely ashore and she was being led to the area that served as a dinning hall to diminish her hysterics.

"Christine...please don't cry I can't bare the sight." Said Erik in a sympathetic tone. "Tell me I beg of you, what troubles you so?" The tears that were now streaming down her face were stopped when his forefinger and thumb forced them to meet their demise halfway down her cheeks.

"Oh Erik! He intents...to hurt you! He thinks you are of some sort of hazard to me and in his own mind he believes he has some right to shelter me from it..."

"Christine who is this fool you speak of?" He replied sternly, although he already had a suspected answer.

"My childhood friend Raoul...he's always been protective of me…even when we played games as children he always yearned to shield me from our imaginary monsters… When I rejected his advances he just grew more paranoid at leering dangers I suppose..."

Erik who had now by this point risen abruptly from the table was now clenching his fists as he turned his back to Christine to prevent her from seeing his rage. Thoughts of killing this young boy flew through his mind. How dare that fop think that he could possibly be capable of hurting Christine! That shallow insect would meet his maker if he didn't learn to keep his mouth shut! To say such things to Christine that would upset her so deserved more than death...oh the horrifying things he could do to that reckless imbecile…!

Erik closed his eyes in thought and suddenly recalled his promise to Christine. The contemplation of such a simple yet grueling task made him remember his seraph's presents. He turned to her once more and smiled gently at her in a genuine effort of relieving her of her sorrows.

"You do not need to worry for me my darling. These tedious acts of intimidation cannot hurt me...they cannot hurt you...or the music we make together." At this point he was circling her, eagerly reaching out for any words that would allow a smile to grow on her face. The mention of music seemed to do this well enough for she smirked slightly at him and replied in a playful manner:

"My concern for your welfare Monsieur is not something that should be toyed with."

"Is that so?" He replied stopping to stand in front of her with a firm grin on his lips. "And why is that Mademoiselle?" He asked with an unnecessary formality.

"Because," She started as she now began circling him. "If I am the muse that you claim me to be, then perhaps I shall just go away and never return-"

Before she had the opportunity to finish her empty threat Erik stopped her game and pulled him close to his side.

"…and then I would die from heartache." He whispered sadly.

"Oh Erik," She said pulling him into an embrace. The instant of serene silence entwined them both in a blissful, idyllic moment that didn't last nearly as long as it should have before the sound of a throat clearing itself managed to awake them from their stupor.

"Well it would appear that I have another visitor." Erik stated with an air of annoyance.

"Madam Giry." Christine breathed as she approached her mother-like figure.

"What are doing here?" Erik snapped before the women had the opportunity of converse.

The older woman held her tongue at the rude comment but sent a glare in his direction that prevented him from saying any more on the subject of her intrusion.

"I am afraid I have some rather troubling news that I need to discuss with you." She said gesturing towards the young man now sitting by his organ in stern observation. A moment of silence went by while the more mature woman looked back and forth from the couple.

"Well if you are going to say something Madam than say it. Mademoiselle Daae and I no longer hold any secrets do we?" He said faintly smiling in her direction. She merely responded with a small smile in return and the two pairs of eyes met briefly before returning their attention to Madam Giry.

"I have received a somewhat disturbing letter today from what I suspect to be a very misinformed Commissaire en chef de police."

The alarmed look on the faces of the receiving group of this information could be easily recognized.

"Well then, what is it?" Snapped Erik again at the loss of his patience.

Madam Giry glared at him with a unspoken look of warning in her eyes before taking a small envelope from her dress pocket and opening it. Christine moved closer to the older woman and wrapped her arms around herself in a nervous nature while Erik remained several paces away from the relatable party.

_Send to care of one Madam Antoinette Giry-_

_Dear Madam Giry,_

_I have been informed by an anonymous source that a rather unstable man has been causing a relatively large amount of aggravation for the Opera Populaire. With this brought to my attention and with the recent murder of Joseph Buquet my department has begun a formal investigation surrounding the infamous "Ghost" which as been described as viciously sadistic. _

_More so however is the regards as to your own involvement in this spectacle. I have also been told that it is you who receives the letters of the "Ghost" and delivers his salary. Let me inform you Madam that uncompromising action will be taken against you should you continue with this charade. Detectives will be visiting to question you formally. But be aware that your association with this villain will be duly noted and taken into account when managing this case._

_I thank you in advance for your aid._

_Greatest regards,_

_Commissaire en chef de police de Paris Aubert Bartlett._

The fearful silence the echoed inside the desolate room was louder than words could express. The letter was put away and great sighs of panic could be heard by the young soprano.

"What are we to do?" She asked timidly to no one in particular. Madam Giry wrapped a loving arm around the young girl and smoothed back a rebellious strand of hair, allowing her mere presents to calm the girl.

"We shall have to devise a plan." Stated Erik soberly. "We can not have them finding my home now can we?" He asked deviously. "We shall simply convince them that the trouble they speak of no longer exists…I shall have to remain unspoken from the theater's occupants for a brief time…"

Both women looked at each other in a skeptic manner "Erik, do you realize what this will require?" Asked Madam Giry stepping forward slightly. "You shall have to make yourself invisible. No jokes, pranks, letters, you shall even have to give up your monthly salaries until the pressure wears off and the media gets notion of something more exciting."

"It can not be that complicated-"

"Don't you understand Erik?" Christine asked from her place in the corner. "This means that you truly have to become a ghost. If anyone catches your presents down here-"

"This also means that you can not visit him anymore my dear." Madam Giry spoke softly at this point.

"What are you talking about? That's not a necessary gesture-"

"If heaven forbid someone where to follow her down her you would be ruined Erik! If by some chance she were to lose herself again in your music and disappear for even more than a few hours it would look suspicious!"

"Those are a lot of 'if's' Madam." Erik said through gritted teeth.

"She is right Erik." Christine said speaking solemnly. She sat herself upon a near by chair while Erik rushed to her side, the misery evident in his misty eyes.

"No Christine no! If we are careful enough you can still come here! As often as you like you can come and visit your poor Erik…" On one knee he stood at this point in front of her, silently begging her to change her mind on the subject.

"She is right Erik." She stated still not looking up at his heartbreaking face. "If they have pieced together that Madam Giry is conspiring with you then they will believe I am as well…I will no longer have privacy in the theater…if we are together they will find us-"

"No!"

"Erik, stop and think for a moment! Not only is your safety at risk but Christine's is as well!"

The words made Erik stop his tantrum and rise to eye level with Madam Giry who was looking deprived of a decent night's sleep herself.

Erik sighed sadly knowing he had been defeated. He turned to Christine who had just risen and took her hand into his own. "I shall miss you." He whispered into her ear.

"…And I you." She replied with equal sadness.

"I am afraid we must return. Both of us have been gone far too long." She said gesturing towards the tear-streaked Christine.

Christine took her hand hesitantly but willing and was led off into the exiting passageways. Her eyes never leaving her angels…her Erik's…until the dark consumed any vision available and her tears gave way once more.

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Please review…


	6. obstacle dévoilé

Hey everybody, I'm here with you and chapter six hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing…in fact can I just have a little name tag that says _"Hello, my name is Welfare"_?

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The frigidly cold winter that Erik was normally so accustomed too now seemed disenchanting and dire in every sense of the word. The only consolation that found him in his dreary world on a somewhat average basis was the hours he spent perfecting his _Don Juan._ Although he once believed that it was exactly as it should be, now that he was estranged from Christine nothing seemed good enough anymore. In fact he found himself overly exasperated with every off note and each pointless line in the script. On the other hand as grueling as it was to admit he did have another source of tranquility that found him occasionally. This particular form of reassurance was rare and eluding, though he still found himself incredibly grateful when it came to him willingly…Dreams as they were. Sometimes so real and lifelike that he could swear that Christine was there with him when he awoke and the harsh realization that she wasn't even close was maddening. He found himself calling out into his world of eternal night, shouting out her name as though she would appear if he could scream it loud enough. Still, however she never came and before he knew it he was once again alone with his insanity and the crippling loneliness that consumed his never-ending days.

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The change in season was a hopeful blessing to Christine. The time she often spent near and around the chapel was usually used up observing the changes in weather through the stained glass windows that she had come to know so well. Regardless of the best of attempts from Meg and Madam Giry Christine had no desire to participate in the other doings of most girls her age. While the other ballet rats and chorus girls would spend their free days in the city, exploring and enjoying the oncoming spring weather Christine would sit miserably in her dark and dismal chapel or her bedroom, humming the many songs that she knew so well. Some people had silently accused her of going mad. They talked behind her back on a regular basis, for without the doings of their Opera Ghost, the rumor mill was slow and not forth coming. Some had proposed that the massive demands of her new diva lifestyle had gotten to her and that she now spent her days preoccupied with the voices of her mind.

Madam Giry of course scolded any spreading of these rumors and as did Meg (who had been given reluctant details on the situation) each female often encouraged her to attend rehearsals and frequently enough the task could be completed with some minimal prompting. But it could not be helped that her eyes were looking sunken in and hollow. The loss of weight could not be denied, nor could the look of an incomplete nature that seemed to haunt her with every breath. Some of the older and more mature Opera personnel observed that Mademoiselle Daae appeared to be grieving rather than going mad. (Although who is to identify that it is not the same thing?) And as so they share their ignorant compassion for her and offered a kind word now and then hoping that the young protégé would find something beyond her unhappiness to compel her time with.

Their hope was soon granted when the announcement of the annual BAL Masquerade was given by the managers. Soon anticipation of the event and excitement took over the stage and was filled with the sound of thrilled voices and planning of all kinds. Decorations could be seen coming in and out of the theater filling the halls with light and colors of all sorts. The young Meg Giry observed all this with an idea forming in her blonde head. She smiled to herself as she watched several stagehand workers argue over the lighting of the event from her place on the stage. As soon as rehearsal was over she quickly excused herself and proceeded to the chapel where had desperately hoped she could rescue her friend from the sorrow she dwelled in.

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Unknown to anyone else, Christine was silently thanking her blessings for the current scandals that had occurred during the late winter that took attention away from not only her and the Opera House but from any talk of such supernatural things at all. And despite their diligence Christine hadn't revealed anything incriminating and eventually it seemed as though the police were truly getting tired of the run around. Since the notorious 'Spirit' seemed to have 'disappeared' things around the Opera Populaire were quite serene now.

As usual Christine was contemplating her heavy thoughts in the chapel when the sound of excited footsteps echoed from the stairs behind her.

"Christine!"

Christine smiled faintly through mid-prayer and opened her eyes to look up at her vivacious friend who carried a large bundle of cloth in her hands.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you." She said with a timid smile.

"I know." Replied her friend softly as she lit another candle.

"Christine look," She began slowly. "Mother and I arranged some fabrics that we could use as part of our masquerade dresses." She said cheerfully. "I think you would look absolutely wonderful in this light green-"

"Meg." Christine whispered as she rose to stand by her friend. "I don't think I wish to go to the Masquerade."

"Oh Christine but you must! It's simply a fantastic excuse to dress up! And Mother said that Monsieur Reyer has tremendous segments of music planned, the entertainment is even suppose to be better than last year! Everyone who's anyone will be there-"

"Wait." Christine said quietly as she grabbed her friend's hand. She stood in unvoiced deliberation for a moment before a smile lighted up her face for the first time in months._ 'Everyone who's anyone will be there'_

"Christine? What is it?" She asked with concern.

"Meg, I believe your right...have your mother meet me in my room at once...I have an idea that I'll need your help with.

Meg had no time to even reply before her friend had run from the room humming some song unknown to her and smiling as though she were a little child again.

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"I don't know what you wish me to do!" Bellowed the livid man as he stormed through the Viscount's study doors. While Aubert Bartlett had always respected and even admired the young man at times for his resolve and unique persistence he now found himself irritated by the young gentleman who was contacting his offices day and night demanding updates practically on the hour on the investigation of the Phantom. Much to the Viscount's disappointment however very little, (practically nothing in fact) had turned up at all. Extraordinarily little evidence had turned up and as it was the this 'so called mad man' who was terrorizing the Opera House was in fact probably just some overly clever prankster who had been frightened away by the announcement of the formal inspection.

Still the Viscount continued this harassment, insisting that the Phantom was simply hiding out and waiting before he made his next move. Maintaining that if the investigation were called off that the appreciation would do something just as horrible as the night of Hannibal, simply to mock their failing efforts.

"I want you to continue the search!" He called trailing behind his friend, ignoring the noisy servants as they looked through the large oak doors for the source of the clamor. Raoul shut the door with a large thud and sighed tremendously.

"Something is wrong with that Opera House. This man I have told you of is perilous! He has taken over Christine's mind-"

"Mademoiselle Daae has complained of no such thing! We have interviewed her on several different occasions and she claims to know nothing of this man you speak of!"

"Do you accuse me of being envious of a monster, sir? I have seen what that thing is capable of!"

"I know you care for this woman Raoul," began the older man sitting down in a nearby chair. "But you have to consider the fact that maybe she doesn't require a _rescue_ from you. Perhaps there is nothing amiss at all!"

"I have _seen_ her!" Raoul said with his last piece of energy as he sank in the chair near his friend. "She…looks like a ghost…" He said sadly as he shook his head and shut his eyes tightly.

"Or maybe she is being seduced by one…"

"Then you agree that something is erroneous ?"

The older gentleman rested a large hand on his massive belly. " We are still uncertain if any other crime has taken place other than that of that dreadful stagehand…bust still we will not end the investigation just yet Raoul…but eventually…you will have to let her go…. One way or another, you cannot keep her forever."

'Watch me…' He thought wordlessly to himself.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

What does everybody think? I know this is kind of a short chapter but it just kind of sets everything up for the next one. As usual please let me know what you think and review!


	7. Masquerade

Hello everybody, I thank you all again for the great reviews and hope they continue!

Luthien Amarie- **Wow**! I am still blushing from all your fantastic comments; I really appreciate your opinion. And I'm thrilled to know that my fic has captured your attention so. I can only hope this chapter proves as entertaining as the last.

Mominator- Hey I'm really glad **someone **noticed that I was trying to stay at least a **little** loyal to Leroux (after all he did write the **original** story)!

Blissful Rose- Hey you! Stop reading my mind! Because I was definitely thinking of going in that direction…

Disclaimer: …Are you kidding? I barely own **this** computer _(tries to scare away REPO men)_

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The sky was clear and uninterrupted with the occasional suspension of bursts of fiery colors in the sky. Below it the sounds of song and celebration could be heard. The outside of the Opera Populaire was littered with lights that glimmered and decorated almost everything. People dressed in their best attire approached the shimmering theater laughing and chatting in the most pleasant way; meanwhile two equally cheerful managers approached each other in an animated manner.

_**Firmin**: (Spoken)  
Monsieur Andre!_

**Andre: **(Spoken)  
Monsieur Firmin!

**Firmin:  
**Dear Andre, what a splendid party 

**Andre:  
**The prelude to a bright new year

**Firmin:   
**Quite a night, I'm impressed

**Andre:  
**Well, one does one's best

**Andre and Firmin:  
**Here's to us 

**Andre:  
**A toast for the city!

**Firmin:   
**What a pity that the Phantom can't be here! 

On the inside of the Opera Populaire the congregate of people were just as enthusiastic about the unruffled nature that had taken over the last few months. Two excellent series of shows had passed and while business was probably not as good as it could have been with the 'Phantom scandal', the tranquility was well worth it.

Christine Daae however, knew nothing of this tranquility as she paced the theaters everlasting passageways greeting the many couples that passed her by. As she apprehensively awaited word from Madam Giry she stopped her treading and rested briefly in front of a golden-laced mirror that hung on the wall as an ornament. She sighed nervously as she examined the details of her dress. Madam Giry's seamstress had it especially made just for Christine and the occasion. She smoothed the fine lace that outline the black fabric of the skirt and examined herself thoughtfully.

The long black ball skirt flattered her thin form and the matching top half of the corset segment that lied strapless just above her chest was also rather enhancing. The gown had a thin lace line with a golden rose design, and to complement the gown she wore a black mask supported with golden sequences and black and golden ribbons in her long, flowing hair.

The appearance of Madam Giry and Meg entering through a side door calmed her stomach, especially when she witnessed Madam Giry's calm and cheerful expression. Without hesitation the older woman approached Christine and placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"Everything has been arranged my dear." She whispered appeasing. Christine smiled through her nervousness and neared her friend Meg with excitement that now began boiling in her soul.

"Oh Meg you look lovely!" She exclaimed.

"But Christine I might as well be a beggar woman compared to you! Look at you, you're simply gorgeous!"

Christine felt herself redden at the comment and the women proceeded down the spiral staircase where an array of music and dance was taking place.

**Chorus/Crowd:   
**_Masquerade/Paper faces on parade/Masquerade/Hide your face so the world will never find you/Masquerade/Every face a different shade/Masquerade/Look around; there's another mask behind you. _

Christine and Meg clung to each other in amazement as they laughed and watched the many dancers. It was hard to believe that simply in a matter of minutes Christine was about to excuse herself to the meeting place where she and her Erik (through Madam Giry) agreed to meet.

It was really quite simple. After all, everyone would be so preoccupied with the excitement of the event that they would never notice the sudden disappearance of the young Prima Donna (At least this on this occasion) as she met her much sought out confidant. Meg nodded knowingly to her friend, silently shooing her away. Yet as Christine walked away from the skeptical around her a rather unwanted visitor met her.

"Christine, you look as beautiful as ever."

Christine stiffened at the sound of the voice but knew better than to run away from it.

"Hello Raoul." She turned around slowly and smiled fondly. Still the sounds of singing could be heard echoing behind her steadily.

_Flash of mauve_

_Splash of puce_

_Fool and king_

_Ghoul and goose_

_Green and black_

_Queen and priest_

_Trace of rouge_

_Face of beast_

_Faces!_

_Take your turn; take a ride/On the merry-go-round/in an inhuman race/Eye of gold/True is false/Who is who/Curl of lip/Swirl of gown/Ace of hearts/Face of clown/Faces/Drink it in, drink it up/Till you've drowned/In the light/In the sound/But who can name the face?  
_

He neared her with a thin smile and approached her with a formal introduction.

"Are you enjoying the ball?"

"So far." She said shortly hoping the dialogue wouldn't last very long.

"It's rather extravagant don't you think? Far more so than last year, but then again business was better this year so I suppose a little more flash is in order."

"Indeed." She stated simply, hold her hands in front of her.

"Are you all right Christine? …I know we haven't spoken in quite some time but you've rather had me worried..." Upon seeing her confused expression he continued.

"Well, it's just that I've seen you around the stage lately and you've looked so miserable that you hardly seem yourself."

Christine blushed and turned her head from his flattering concern. However without wishing this to continue any further she made an attempt to end the conversation. Especially after the sound of a clock chiming the sound of ten came to her ears. She glanced around nervously as she knew she was officially late for the meeting she was so looking forward to.

"I know you worry for me Raoul, really I do...I am afraid it was merely a touch of the flu that kept me down for so long. Now if you'll excuse me I really must be going."

With that she smiled weakly and turned from him quickly. It was not quick enough however as Raoul had grabbed her elbow roughly before she got away.

"Christine what is it that has you so spooked? Is something wrong?"

Unaware of what to say Christine was simply stuttering lame explanations, grateful all the while that the ball was keeping everyone so entertained so they could not witness their dramatic scene.

"Nothing is the matter Raoul, for heavens sakes! Now unhand me I have some very important business to attend to." She said rather angrily now.

"It's him isn't it?" He demanded. Christine felt a shiver grow from where he had her to her spine and back. He continued to look at her unwavering eyes and it almost seemed as though he was searching her face for an explanation.

"Raoul I don't know what you are talking about, and obviously neither do you!" She jerked herself away just as stares from other guests were beginning to find them, behind her the sounds of a musical conversation could be heard.

_Masquerade/Grinning yellows, spinning reds/Masquerade/Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you/Masquerade/Burning glances, turning heads/Masquerade/Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you/Masquerade/Seething shadows breathing lies/Masquerade/You can fool any friend who ever knew you/Masquerade/Leering satyrs, peering eyes/Masquerade/Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you.   
**  
**_**Carlotta: **  
What a night!

**Firmin: **  
What a crowd!  
**  
Andre: **  
Makes you glad 

**Firmin: **  
Makes you proud! All the crème, De la crème

**Madam Giry: **(Overlapping)  
Watching us….

**Meg: **(Overlapping)  
Watching them 

**Carlotta: **(Overlapping)  
All our fears are in the past

**Andre: **  
Three months

**Piangi: **  
Of relief!

**Carlotta: **  
Of delight!

**Andre:**  
Of Elysian peace!

**Piangi:**  
And we can breathe at last.   
**  
Carlotta: **  
No more notes

**Piangi: **  
No more ghost

**Madame Giry: **  
Here's a health 

**Andre:**  
Here's a toast, to a prosperous year 

**Firmin: **  
To our friends who are here  
**  
Piangi and Carlotta: **  
And may the splendor never fade! 

**Firmin/Andre: **  
What a blessed release!

**Madame Giry: **  
And what a masquerade!

Without looking behind her she ran as fast as her legs would take her to the rooftop where she knew her angel was waiting.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

He was a fool.

He knew that now as he waited on the snowy rooftop for his beloved. He had come at an earlier time in the hopes that she would as well, but when that didn't occur he was still grateful for the opportunity to see her up close as he had in his imaginings. Every so often he had the prospect to catch a glimpse of his angel as she rehearsed or sat alone in the chapel. But without hearing her voice, smelling her hair, or even just seeing her smile at him made him feel as though he were missing an organ that he would die without. Her absents was practically fatal to him.

Thus words couldn't express the joy he felt when he found the small envelope of parchment upon his doorstep a few days earlier. Though the words had obviously been rushed and not well thought out he had recognized Christine's handwriting instantly and nearly wept with elation when the faintest scent of her perfume entered his nostrils.

_My Beloved Erik,_

_Though I know it is wisest for us to stay apart until the police investigation is complete I cannot help but miss you unspeakably and ask you for a sincere wish that I can only hope you'll grant without hesitation._

_Meet me at the rooftop at the stroke of ten on the night of the Masquerade near the Apollo's statue. If for some reason this request in deniable then please send word to Madam Giry right away._

_I remain eternally yours,_

_Christine._

There was no question that he would do as she asked, for the thought of a face-to-face meeting (however brief) was well worth whatever inconvenience it would cost him.

Although now as he stood alone at Apollo's side he felt himself completely senseless for ever even believing that she would dare show up for such an incident of seeing him again. How idiotic could he be? She had probably not even cared that these long grueling months had practically been a living hell for him...knowing she was so close yet so far.

"Oh my wretched Apollo, have you no shame! You praise your own seduction skills yet give me none of y own!" At this stage of his ranting he knelt before the massive statute and bowed his head shamefully.

"I know now how you feel my friend..." He called out sadly to the statue. Silent tears streamed down his face as he checked the time once more on the mighty watchtower nearby. "Is she to be my Daphne!" He screamed out into the night, uncaring who heard the painful, verbal raging.

"_Stay, said he, daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear that you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant..."_

The sound of an adjacent door forced him to regain his conscience and he rose eagerly extracting his weapon. However upon seeing who the visitor was he simply stepped forward slightly and smiled with more capacity than he was aware of and whispered into what now seemed the picturesque night:

"..._And know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! An arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart!" _

"Erik!" Christine yelled happily. The task was rather difficult since she was so direly out of breath, still she managed to jump into his arms and embrace her dear friend.

"Oh Erik, forgive me for acting so childish but I have missed you horribly!" She laughed merrily as he stared at her with confusion. Words could not find him…her magnificence was far too breathtaking. He simply took the moment of silence to enjoy her presence

And the splendor that she conveyed with her. As he stared at her angelic face he came to a bittersweet conclusion: this moment was the closest he would ever get to paradise.

"What is it?" She asked with a sudden sense of panic forming in her throat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing my dear…nothing at all. I was simply astounded by your exquisiteness this evening." He said regaining his composer once more. She responded of course with a blush but continued to smile nevertheless.

"I was…rather pleased when I received your letter." He began quietly.

She smiled affectionately and brushed a strand piece of hair from his face. "Well I was just as pleased to write it." Her forwardness produced a grin from Erik and he found her returning it equally. The comfortable stillness between them was soon interrupted by the sound of a scuffle from behind them.

Instinctively Erik pushed Christine behind him and extracted his weapon yet again to find the unidentified assailant. However after a tense moment came and went… a small rat appeared from the dank corner and scampered off into the night.

While Christine opted to laugh at the 'commotion' Erik clearly thought nothing of the sort.

"Come. We must return…Divas can only go missing so many times before the guards go and look for her." With that he grabbed her hand harshly and led her down the stairwell, his eyes never leaving the area from where the rat had showed himself.

Little to Erik's knowledge a very distressed and ferociously livid Viscount was waiting in that very same corner. Steaming to learn of the secret reunion between Christine and that- that demonic creature!

He arose stiffly and gritted his teeth in the brisk air. But before he returned to the Ball an idea formed in his head and Apollo heard yet another foundation for mania that the Viscount muttered into the night.

"_She will be mine."_

XxxxXXXXxxxx

Ok, I'll admit it…I'm impatiently waiting for reviews! Please let me know what you think. Honestly, good or bad…


	8. Révolte d'opéra

Hey everyone, I once again thank you for all the positive reviews I've been getting on this fic. I must admit I hadn't planned on taking it this far…but you guys are just all so encouraging!

Disclaimer: I'm using the _library's_ computer right now…that should tell you how much I own. (Hint: not a thing)

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"_Come. We must return…Divas can only go missing so many times before the guards go and look for her." With that he grabbed her hand harshly and led her down the stairwell, his eyes never leaving the area from where the rat had showed himself._

_Little to Erik's knowledge a very distressed and ferociously livid Viscount was waiting in that very same corner. Steaming to learn of the secret reunion between Christine and that- that demonic creature! _

_He arose stiffly and gritted his teeth in the brisk air. But before he returned to the Ball an idea formed in his head and Apollo heard yet another foundation for mania that the Viscount muttered into the night._

"_She will be mine."_

XxxxXXXXxxxx

The shadows that lined the back-stage of the Opera House were intermittent in their stillness by two figures moving in the darkness, in a careful manner of course as to not be seen by rowdy employee's eyes. Though they probably had little reason to worry as those members of the staff were easily distracted by the free entertainment that rained in the back round.

"Erik? Why are we moving so fast? I can scarcely keep up!" Christine whispered from behind him. He pulled her behind one last corner and looked over her shoulder numerous times before releasing her hand and placing it gently on the side of her arm.

"Forgive me Christine," He paused once more to be sure no other ears heard the conversation. "But I fear that we may have been followed tonight."

"Oh Erik, that's silly! Why you say yourself that the noise was merely a homely rat. Besides why would-?" He cut her off promptly, the panic obvious in his voice.

"Do you know of anyone who would wish to follow you Christine? Anyone who might have been causing trouble? Anyone who saw you leave?"

The wide eyes and the realization of the situation hit Christine hard and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Erik read her expression clearly… as his soon turned to one of vehement stone.

"It was that ridiculous Viscount wasn't it? Did he harass you tonight Christine? Did he once again attempt to pursue you!" Erik had clearly forgotten the shushed tone he originally intended to have for the sounds of several curious stagehands could be heard wondering where the mysterious noise was coming from.

"He meant no harm Erik!" She had begun pleading with him, though part of her already suspected the Erik would not change any absorbed opinion he already had of her childhood friend.

"No harm indeed!" He heaved at the thought of that imprudent boy eavesdropping on _their_ exchange. The concept alone made Erik desire to rid that boorish youngster of his last breath…

The sound of the sudden silence in the back round forced both Erik and Christine to repent their argument and turn their heads in the direction of the stage that they could witness from just a few step to the side-ledge. They looked at each other for a brief moment before approaching the side railing cautiously.

The sight below them was a typical one: The newest managers hosting a toast to the successful year that they had experienced so far, the hope for an even better one, and so on. Beside them stood Carlotta and Piangi, all smiles as photographers and well wishers remained near-by and smiled delightfully. The display was soon broken up however when a very bothered looking Viscount and two armed guards approached the managers and delivered what appeared to be some rather distressing news, for the bright expressions on the men's faces soon faltered and they hesitated to speak once again, only when they did begin this time they didn't speak with the elegance of a practiced speech or the manner of a pleased entrepreneur. Firmin spoke first (as it appeared he was becoming used to these incidents…)

"Ladies and Gentlemen we apologies for the um…slight interruption by our Patron! But it- it would appear that we have a slight problem that the police would wish us to take care of as soon as possible…" He paused and looked over at his paled friend desperately.

"Yes…yes!" Andre said taking over. "At the request of the Commissaire en chef de police the Opera Populaire is temporarily on a security lock-down…until future notice."

With these words the crowd grew into an uproar of irritation and confusion. Masked faces turned to one another in hopes of securing an answer.

"It is nothing to worry about I assure you all!" Exclaimed the Patron with false enthusiasm as he took his place as spokesmen. "But it would appear that yet another Phantom sighting has taken place.

The crowd looked on further and the sounds of gasps and horror could be heard from all around.

"Due to the recent events that have taken place in the Opera House, the police wish to conduct an investigation and examine the facility of the theater before anyone can exit or enter the building-"

"Are you saying we are trapped in this place with a madman!" Exclaimed an outraged gentleman from the audience as he intermittent the Viscount's lecture.

The recent comment shocked all those who heard it and a deep sense of dread began to rise amongst the people…

Christine and Erik heard the turmoil from their place above the stage and each remained silent for the briefest of moments. Erik: feeling a deep sense of foreboding wash over him once again distracted Christine from the happenings and pulled her after him.

"Where are we going?" She called after him.

"You are not safe here. There is another way to get to the lake from here, but the passageway is tricky you will have to follow me."

Unable to argue any longer Christine sighed sadly as the commotion below them grew louder and he led her around the many stairs and passageways of the Opera House. Just as she was about to collapse from the lack of breath the couple stopped near what appeared to be an unused closet that hadn't had a human being near it in quite some time.

"What is this?" She asked more to herself than him.

"It's an old device that the stagehands attempted to build in before the war...as a safe spot. It is designed to transport those who are inside it by simply using a certain amount of wires and pulleys. Come," He said stepping aside and pushing open the door with a great vigor. "This will lead us to the water main that descends near the lake." He held out his hand invitingly and she took it without question wondering how the simple rendezvous had gone so wrong.

The doors closed almost instantly as she stepped inside. The action scared her enough to jump slightly, (much to Erik's amusement) and as Erik ridged the many levers of the small space Christine found herself shivering...something wasn't right.

The screech and shrieks of the old apparatus confirmed her theory as the ancient door opened once again. Not only were they not on the lakeside by practically a mere few feet away from the stage itself! Neither participant had time to react before a near-by woman screamed at Erik's sudden appearance. Christine grabbed his arm in shock and fear as several guards approached them with their weapons drawn.

Unknowingly Christine was pushed aside and Erik's own weapon had been extracted. Though they most definitely vowed to injure him, he would not allow them to wound Christine. He had only hoped in her shock that she had managed to get away from the mad scene around them.

The men approached him cautiously unaware of how to handle the abnormal adversary. All dressed in the Police Guard uniforms they nearly appeared the same, however by the time the first attacker attempted to puncture Erik with his sword Erik had already pin-pointed the weaknesses of each man...a feeling of rage that he once rejected was vengefully coming back to him. It was a perplexing and familiar sensation...and yet it came to him all at once, roughly comforting in an odd way like reuniting with an old friend. It was almost as though a demon had been released inside of him, demanding he ignore the consequences of his actions as he assaulted each man respectively. He bellowed into the calamity of the setting for the simple task of imitating his latest opponents.

"_**I am the Red Death which you all fear! Now come and have a taste of the hell that you shall soon be condemned to!" **_

Soon each man lied on the ground bleeding and injured in his own way… the surge to kill, to finish the dispute _they_ had started could not be deprived of. The Phantom chose the most pitiful creature of them all to thrust his sword upon.

The young man of no more than nineteen looked upon the Evil Specter with a fear quite unsurpassed to that he had ever known. The Phantom laughed harshly as the young man recited a prayer. A superficial, hollow laugh erupted from him as he lifted his sword upon the undersized man and shouted:

"Your God cannot help you now!" The voice was so impure, so unlike that of a living person that those who heard it could not help but wonder if the creature about to kill the boy was the devil himself…it seemed as though nothing could stop him! Nothing!

This assumption was proven wrong when a gentle yet firm hand that grabbed the handle of his sword tightly. Thus forcing the ghost to drop it in haste.

"Erik no!" She called out into the mass of pandemonium. The voice forced the Phantom's features to soften slightly as he released the young man from his grasps. He turned slowly, only to be met by the cold-hearted eyes, and tear stained cheeks of his beloved.

"You promised…" She whispered miserably into the night.

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_**Terror Strikes The Opera Populaire!**_

_Forward by: Delmar Florismart_

_Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes_

_Waves of color and glimmer encased the Opera Populaire as their annual Masquerade, took place. Even the most ignorant of peasants knows that the BAL Masquerade is the social highlight of the season and therefore only the crème, De la crème are invited to attend the event. And while every year is a manifestation of lights, sounds, and extravagance the proceedings that occurred last night were particularly more so. _

_Shortly after 11:00 p.m. the newest managers of the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre (whom you may recall from their recent for wealth in the scrap metal business) began what appeared to be a lovely toast. Both gentlemen were thanking the staff and guests for attending and making the event so splendid when a rather disturbed Viscount de Chagny and two guardsmen approached the managers hurriedly and whispered some rather frightful news._

_It would appear that someone had spotted the infamous Opera Ghost and reported the event anonymously to the Viscount who was also close by at the time of the sighting. The anonymous viewer, who even still wishes to remain nameless, saw the ghost up close and personal. This particular sighting is a rare one indeed since the Ghost has only been 'seen' through shadows and closed curtains. _

_The guards and Paris Police who have been investigating the murder of Joseph Buquet regarded the Opera Ghost to be responsible for the crime and therefore were quite eager to contract the killer in question. The managers requested everyone's assistance and announced that there was to be an immediate lock down, stating that no one could leave or enter the building until further notice._

_Despite what was most likely their best efforts, the individuals who attend the occasion were quite alarmed at the thought of being trapped in the same building with a murder that could have easily been the masked face next to them. It wasn't long before the light-hearted nature that the evening had begun with turned into a vicious riot, in which the people were desperate to merely leave the structure._

_Not long into the horror a mysterious figure in red appeared with a flash of fire and light. A sword was withdrawn quickly, and as the terrifying figure fought off nearly a dozen guards single-handily, people began breaking windows and shouting…some outside the Opera house claimed the screams could be heard for miles._

_While no serious injuries were reported, the evening did result in several causalities and a panic that has yet to be matched. And while some spectators believe this Phantom sighting to be a mere publicity stunt gone amiss, others believe that the rampage itself might have been the product of the Ghost. And that the apparition himself is far from ceasing to cause trouble for the theater…_

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Madam Antoinette Giry threw the infuriating article across the room and surveyed the damage of the theater around her. Vases, ornaments, and glittered garnishing of all kinds lied in ruins across the floor. She sighed sadly a picked up a small flower from the floor, its petals were torn and like many others it showed little signs of survival.

A few frantic workers passed her by mumbling something to themselves in their native language. She understood their frustration, she felt it now herself. The evening had begun as such a success and had become a disaster in less than a blink of the eye. She recalled witnessing Christine finally escaping the Viscount and swiftly making her way to the rooftop. Antoinette had smiled at the scene, both of the infatuated children were so eager to see one another that it made her heart swell with a sense of romance that she hadn't felt in years. The dancing and singing continued in Christine's absents and Madam Giry recalled even herself feeling high spirited and carefree at the accomplishment of the night.

It was simply disgusting the manner in which the Viscount displayed himself! Running up to the managers in the middle of their toast, throwing everyone into a fright! She had suspected that Erik's manifestation was the work of something gone wrong, 'after all it isn't possible for that boy to be quite _that much _out of his mind.' She thought with slight amusement.

Unfortunately for Erik whatever had motivated him to end up making a horrid arrival, forced him to practically appear at the front lobby! Good lord what was she to do now? Christine had vanished from sight, having being pushed from Erik's side…by whom Madam Giry could not say. And as witnesses shrieked at the mediocre attack they observed towards the masked stranger Madam Giry had been pushed aside…wondering and distressing for both of the young individuals whom she considered to be adopted children of her own…

She dropped the deceased flower on the staircase as she in descended it. And silently prayed that they were at least somewhat in safe hands.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

What do you guys think? Please let me know.


	9. Brutal Comprehension

Greetings loyal readers, thanks so much for all the constructive input. I really can't tell you how much it helps with the writing process. Hope you all enjoy the latest installment!

Disclaimer: I don't even own my soul anymore… (Points over to the devil) let alone anything else!

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The caves beneath the Opera Populaire were now as silent as ever…normally music could be heard quite frequently. Often (other than the echo of the owner's maddening nonsense) it was the only sound to be heard at all. But on this particular day very little was to be heard other than the wild movement of the infuriated gentlemen who was known at this time to be nothing more than a Phantom. This apparition tore at the walls violently in internal protest, killing the potential silence with his screams of fury. He took a fleeting glance at the mannequin that was to imitate his love and his demurer softened slightly…he collapsed on the remaining wall and slid down until he reached the floor…it was only a short amount of time before his head was in his hands and he was weeping out the name of his beloved.

His suffering was only the fault of a solitary dim-witted soul! Erik arose and tightened his fists cantankerously. Christine may never be able to forgive the fiend that he had become…but the Viscount would learn the true meaning of torment even if it meant it was the last thing he would ever do…

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Little" Meg Giry was now grateful for her steady ballerina skills, for they now served her well as she tipped-toed through the Opera House's corridors and hallways. Remaining unseen and silent were her primary goals now as she assiduously traveled through the halls with a small basket of food and a bag of clothing in her arms.

When she reached her destination she knocked on the door slowly, with a certain pattern to notify the person inside of her arrival.

"Christine? Christine it's me open up." She whispered quickly. Upon her request the door opened and she entered without delay, dropping the contents she held and shutting it just as hurriedly. Inside her small dorm room Meg began hastily putting away a variety of objects, moving back and forth cleaning the small space as she went along.

"I'm sorry I took so long but you'd be surprised how hard it is to sneak into the kitchen and find a decent amount of food without getting caught! Although, I came close when that God awful wigmaker of Carlotta's came through intent on getting wine for his precious _diva_." Meg said mockingly. "And of course I got a small loaf of bread, some dried fruit, and I doubt they'll miss it but I also retrieved a few chocolates." A gleam of mischief glowed in her eyes as she said that. "Then I rushed down to your dressing room to retrieve some clothes…"

She stopped her haste then and felt her shoulders sink at the sight of her pitiful friend. Christine sat silently on the corner of the small bed, rolling her thumbs inside of each other. It was clear that she was in deep enough thought and that she hadn't heard a word Meg had said. Normally, the prima ballerina hopeful would have been slightly irked by the behavior but instead of lecturing her friend she simply sat down alongside her and wrapped a loving arm around her shoulder.

"You know, your welcome to '_hideout'_ here as long as you want. I guarantee not even my mother's diligent eyes will find you here…" She said in an effort to restore Christine's confidence.

Christine looked up and smiled wearily. "Thank you Meg, but I can't run away from my problems forever. Eventually I'll have to face the troupe, you're mother, Raoul-"

"And him?" Meg interrupted her curiosity getting the best of her. She stood up and shrugged guiltily. "Sorry, I suppose I just get ahead of myself sometimes."

Christine only smiled feebly in response and stood up to lean against the window where she wrapped her arms around herself and sighed quietly.

"Is there anything else you need? Anything I can get you?" Meg asked hurriedly in an endeavor to cheer up her friend.

"Actually," Christine began. "Could you order me a carriage?" When Meg turned to her with obvious confusion she continued.

"I wish to visit my father's grave." She replied despondently.

"Oh of course!" She exclaimed. "I'll just distract the stable boys so I can gather a driver…"

"And we all know how much you love to do that." Replied Christine with a playful tone in her voice. Meg reddened slightly but soon retorted by sticking her tongue out.

"I'll be right back." She whispered as she opened her door and disappeared once more into the darkness of the hall.

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Elise LaVerne had been a staff hand for the Chagny family for over twenty years. And through those years she had come to know the majority of the family reasonably well. She had studied them through observation and through bits and pieces of conversation she picked up here and there. Usually she found them to be benevolent and a generally pleasant family to work for, some households she had worked for were less than kind to their staff if not downright cruel. But the Changy family treated them well if not even respectable like.

This Saturday morning the outdoor atmosphere was lavished with a grayish sky and foggy air that promised rain in the neighboring future. Elise was eagerly directing the younger servants as to how to dust the dinning hall chandler when the sound of the front gates slamming open greeted her ears the wide doors released a brisk gust of wind into the front foyer and even some lifeless leaves from the previous season. She rushed to the area immediately and plastered a smooth smile upon her face as she greeted her employer.

"Why hello Monsuire Chagny! I am glad to see you are in good spirits! We were all quite concerned when you didn't return from the masquerade yesterday evening-"

"Not now Elise!" He snapped harshly as he stormed passed her and straight into his study. He didn't need to hear the phony woman's chatter at a time like this! The elderly lady shrugged it off however and continued with the work that lied about her.

Meanwhile a very discredited Viscount furiously threw open the large doors of his study before slamming them shut once more. He tossed his jacket from his body urgently before also removing his tie and boots. He paused a moment reliving the events of the previous moment in his mind before bellowing angrily to himself.

"That wretched Phantom _will_ meet the tip of my sword! No one, especially some cynical freak defeats me!" With that he stormed around the room vengefully: knocking down several series of books, throwing globes off their spheres, and slamming desk frills from their place as well. He stopped only when he lacked the breath to go any further, and once he regained himself slightly he left the study and immediately went to the stables.

"Where you off to sir?" Asked a curious stable boy as he groomed an undersized stallion. The Viscount mounted a large Noric steed while some other outdoor assistants opened the access gates.

"The Opera Populaire." He declared rather coldly. "I have some considerably important business to attend to.

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"Meg dear, have you seen Christine?" Called Madam Giry after her daughter. Once the older woman caught up to her she continued her questioning.

"No one has seen her since last night…" She continued to eye her daughter suspiciously while the blond seemed to have a hard time looking her mother in the eye.

"No Madam, I thought that she was perhaps-," She said gesturing to the ground. "Well, you know…with _him_." She whispered.

"Now I know you know better than that young lady. Christine isn't senseless enough to visit _her tutor _after the fiasco that occurred last night."

Meg bit her lip nervously as her mother placed a firm hand on her hip and captured a stance that suggested she knew Meg wasn't saying everything she knew.

Although Meg was generally a sufficient liar, there was something in her mother's stature that could always make her lose her resolve when it came to the subject that she was hiding.

"I haven't seen her since last night either mother. Maybe she-"

"Meg Giry I will give you one more opportunity to tell me the truth before…"

"Ok! Ok…" She started before the threat could be stated. "She stayed in my dormitory last night. She was planning on staying with me until things calmed down a little more." She hung her head in shame as her mother groaned with certain exasperation.

"Have you girls any sense in your heads! The police have been looking for her Meg! For God's sakes they think she has disappeared again! And on top of that you knew I would be worried why didn't you tell me? Of all the careless, mindless, negligent things to do! You girls-"

"Mother I'm sorry but she was so desperate to get away from this madhouse! And she asked for my confidence, what was I suppose to do?"

The oldest Giry sighed and closed her eyes tightly taking a hand to her temple to rid herself of her oncoming headache.

"What in the world am I suppose to do with you girls…we will disuse this later." She stated as a group of stagehands walked passed. Meg nodded knowingly but remained silent. "Is Christine still in your room? I wish to speak with her as soon as possible."

Meg bit her lip harder and hesitated before answering. "Well…um… No. She wanted to visit her father's grave…I called a horse and carriage for her sometime ago-"

"Very well." She said cutting off her daughter. "When she returns let her know I am looking for her and wish to speak with her as soon as possible." Meg gave a slight curtsey as her mother walked off and it was only when she was sure her mother was out of earshot she let out a dramatic groan of aggravation and preceded to the costume room to be fitted for the latest production.

She had barely turned a corner towards the stage before a stern pair of arms grabbed her from the shadows. On instinct she struggled wildly but a hand placed itself on her mouth in order to stop the screams she attempted to omit. She continued to thrash about in an effort to attract the attention of the passing stagehands but she soon stopped when a rough voice whispered into her ear:

"It would be unwise of you Mademoiselle to call out in such an inauspicious situation…Now I have reason to believe that you know the whereabouts of Mademoiselle Daae…tell me where she is an I will have no reason to harm you. Understood?"

Meg nodded hurriedly despite herself.

"I will release you, only under the condition that you do not scream. Understood?"

She nodded once again, eager to agree to anything get away from the assailant.

The hands gradually released her but instead of keeping her word Meg turned around swiftly and randomly slapped the figure that stood behind her. The action was rapid and she took off immediately afterward, holding her skirts as she ran trying and calling out for anyone nearby who might hear her. Unfortunately the hands grabbed her once more and instead of simply hold her they shook her viciously and she opened her eyes as she faced her aggressor and felt them grow wide at the realization of who the provoker was.

"You blasted woman!" Shouted Raoul as he threw her to the ground. Meg attempted to defend herself but he overpowered her effortlessly and grabbed her arms roughly pulling her up to his eyelevel. It was only now that Meg noticed the small droplet of blood that was coming from his lip, something that she had no doubt invoked during her escape.

"Where is she!" He roared. "Where? Tell me where she is or I swear you'll earn a beating like nothing you've ever known before!"

"I don't know Monsieur!" She beseeched desperately.

"_Hey what's going on down there?" _Called a stagehand from above. The interruption distracted the Viscount long enough for Meg to swindle out of his grasp and run towards the stage itself where a rehearsal was taking place.

It seemed like an eternity had come and gone before she finally reached her destination… when she turned to look behind her to see if the Viscount was still there however, he was nowhere to be found…she only remained in the vicinity for a fleeting moment before retreating to find her mother and warn her friend of the danger that she was undoubtedly in.

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Hey everybody there you go! As requested Erik is finally going to…well lets just say cause the Viscount some discomfort! Hooray! As usual I impatiently await your reviews!


	10. Voyage au cimetière

Hey people, yet another chapter…hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I Own nothing more than this plot, and my fiendish brain. (although I am fervently willing to sell either.)

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As one of the back exits of the Opera Popular was opened Raoul De Chagny growled to himself angrily. That damned Ballet rat probably knew where Christine was! And wherever she was he would guarantee that the Phantom would be close by! He kicked a trashcan that centered in the alleyway he now stood in. What was he to do now? He had to find Christine before that primitive ballet acquaintance of hers told her about their 'little meeting'. And surly she would believe every word that foolhardy girl told her!

He cursed himself out loud ignoring the stares that he received from the people passing him from the street. Suddenly however he witnessed a carriage passing by and brilliantly came up with an scheme. He rushed of to the stables as fast as he legs would carry him, only hopping that he would find a reliable resource there.

"Excuse me sir!" He exclaimed when he approached an outdoor member of staff near the stable who was preoccupied with wiping the grease from his fingers. "I wonder if I may have a moment of your time?"

"Of course sir." Said the man only being helpful because he noticed the clothes of nobility the man wore and the fine manner in which he kept himself.

"I was looking for my sister but it appears that she went to run some errands...you see she didn't know I was arriving today and I wanted to surprise her." He said clasping his hands together innocently and giving the man a counterfeit smile

"Well I might of seen her sir, we have quite a few Opera folks coming in and out of here all the time."

"Yes well," Began the Viscount clearly annoyed with the man's lousy grammar and overall lack of knowledge. "She's a brunette, about this high-," He said with a gesture of his hand.

"Ah yeah we had one like that come through a while ago! Oddest thing happened too..." He said with a crinkle of his brow.

"Well what?" Said the wide-eyed Viscount obviously fervent to hear the tale.

"Well, one of my older drivers- Charlie ya see was about to drive her but he came back in a few minutes later saying something about someone stealing his wagon-"

"What was her destination? Do you know?" He said clearly not caring that he was cutting the man off.

"Um...yeah I think so...lets see..." Mumbled the man evidently in deep thought.

"Well?"

"Ah yeah that's right the cemetery-" The man didn't even have time to finish before the well dressed stranger ran passed him and for what appeared to be his own horse. He ascended him quickly and he and the animal were soon out of sight.

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He knew it was deceitful.

He knew she wouldn't approve.

Yet he did it anyway.

The many rags and shredded garment that he used as a disguise was a adequate enough of a cover-up that she didn't even notice the change in the driver's facade or the fact that he kept stealing an occasional glance in her direction every so often.

Erik had decided that this was the perfect way to get her unaccompanied for an exchange. While in the Opera House any prying ears could invade their discussion anytime they so chose to. (As proved the aforementioned evening.) But this way Erik would have Christine all to himself, (whether she was aware of it or not). He would leave her be for a short time while she tended to her father's memorial but before he allowed her to leave _she would _speak with him about the previous night's events.

He felt he owed her an explanation, some kind of excuse that could fix everything, an apology of some sort that she could easily accept and their tribulations would cease...yet he had no notion as to what he would say to her when he did at long last did have her to himself. The concept of not knowing what to say or do, infuriated him beyond rationalization but in an anomalous way it was somewhat appealing and at the very least exhilarating and innovative. Then again the power that Christine Daae had over him could force him to feel a hundred new emotions...and he was sure if he did...he wouldn't be capable of controlling them either.

And something about him wanted her to know that. Wanted her to know that she was the only woman in the world that made him feel vulnerable with the simply touch of her hand, who heightened his soul with her laugher...who made him feel anything at all.

He stopped the carriage at her request and proceeded to let her get out of it before rounding the corner. His eyes while preoccupied with the direction of the horses never left her form as she slowly and sadly trailed towards her father's tombstone.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Christine held on tightly to the flowers she intended to give to her father. As she glanced up towards the statues of angels an saints above her a sincere feeling of unhappiness swept over her. The sentiment was a familiar one lately... And she felt herself ready to cry under the thumb of the winter air, but held back the ache in her soul by marching forward tenaciously and mumbling morbid prayers under her breath.

It wasn't long before she reached the headstone where her father's now late body lied. She had only hoped that he had found the serenity in death that she so dreadfully yearned for now. She choked back a sob as she leaned forward to rest on her knees. Only a moment passed before she finally allowed the horrors of the recent days flow through her… and salty tears could soon be tasted with those memories and conflictions. She called out in anguish craving the father she so greatly missed to guide her and direct her in her time of hardship.

"Oh father I miss you so." She said through a sniffle.

"I wish you could be here to show me the way in these bewildering hours..." Her cries were presently cut off by a distinct sound of movement behind her.

Christine rose quickly and wiped her eyes, eager to see where the inexplicable clamor had derive from.

'_Damn!' _he thought as he hid behind the wing of a very large granite angel. He should have known better than to shuffle to feet! Normally he could have reside hidden behind the massive statue for longer than necessary if need be but the sound of Christine's desolate sobs made him lose all track of consciousness thought he had left and as a result he faltered over his feet slightly...

"Hello?" She called out softly. "Is anyone there?"

Unable to hide from her face any longer Erik sighed in shame and appeared from behind the colossal statue. He was rewarded by a gasp of surprise quickly followed by a look of anger and betrayal.

"Yes it is I." He said more mockingly that he meant to.

"How dare you intrude on my father's gravesite!" She began, clearly furious at the thought. "You have no right to be here!" She screamed.

"I know." He stated somberly braving to take a step closer to her.

"Don't you dare approach me Erik!" She whispered hardheartedly without even looking at him.

"I must speak with you!" He stressed.

"I have nothing to say Erik. Now leave me to my grief for I desire to be left alone…" Shortly after saying this she dropped to her knees once more, unaware that Erik had gone nowhere she began to cry once more.

He moved quickly and inaudibly until he was nothing more than a shadow upon her petite physique. A moment passed in inferior silence neither knowing what to say...or therefore_ how_ to say it.

Erik finally knelt by her side, surprised when she didn't push him away he felt confident enough to continue. "I refuse to allow you to weep alone in the cold Christine." He affirmed simply. "You...you may hate me all you wish...but please don't allow yourself to suffer alone like this."

Christine felt her soul shake with the heartfelt words that he spoke so openly. And without thinking she looked up at him and rested her eyes on his face covered in uncertainty and worries and finally allowed herself to fall upon his shoulder and cry.

The sudden action astounded Erik to say the least but he responded quickly as he wrapped his arms adoringly around her frame and smoothed a gloved hand through her unruly hair. Christine who was beside herself with emotion simply allowed him to console her silently as she leaned against him further and buried her tear-ridden face against his inviting chest.

The tender moment of silence was recoiled by the offshore sound of a horses neigh. Christine and Erik each looked up in the direction of the noise. Christine remained startled and confused on the ground while Erik arose quickly and reached for his sword.

"Erik-?"

He shushed her with a simple wave of his hand and just as Christine was about to protest the Viscount de Chagny himself rode up to the scene.

Erik approached him readily and before the Viscount had a moment to properly dismounted he had kicked the legs out from underneath him.

Raoul called out briefly but withdrew his sword swiftly and rose to meet the Phantom's deadly gaze.

"You will not take her from me." He whispered violently.

"We shall see about that." Declared the Viscount as he lunged forward in an effort to pierce his adversary.

By this time Christine had risen from her place on the earth and began following the ferocious procession had already begun fighting throughout the cemetery.

Each man had taken his turn at swiping at the other. At one point the Viscount had even caused Erik to drop his guard and almost his weapon. Erik mused at how well the boy had been trained…he had to give him that much...but still he knew he was better and continued to show so by crossing his weapon and finally puncturing his rival in the face with the tip of his blade.

The gasp of Christine could be heard nearby as she called out for them to stop. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, for although the Viscount stopped briefly to observe the small wound on his cheek he merely smiled viciously and continued forward puncturing the Phantom with the blade of his sword as promised.

Erik called out in a slight notion of pain as the blood began seeping from his shoulder blade. The favor was soon rewarded when Erik lunged forward and stabbed Raoul in the flesh of his forearm causing him enough soreness that he had to let his defense down. Erik took advantage of the short moment to reward the Viscount with an elbow to the eye.

"Stop!" Christine called out; close enough now that either sword could easily puncture her. Both men not wishing to harm her locked eyes briefly before doing as she asked and stopping their fighting.

"This is enough from both of you! Now stop this foolishness and quit acting as though you each have a trophy of some kind to gain! This is ridiculous and I will have nothing more to do with it!" With that she stormed off leaving two baffled men in her wake.

"Christine Wait!" Called out the Viscount.

Erik _himself_ was also frustrated with this idiocy. The outlandish Viscount would more than likely be killed by his hand...but it would not be done in front of Christine. And whether she realized it or not this ignorant boy was not right in his mind and therefore dangerous to her. He would not allow this fop to fixate over her any longer.

Therefore as the boy began to run after Christine, Erik tossed the blade of his sword so the silver handle rested outward and he firmly hit the Viscount with the blunt object and it only took one blow before he landed on the ground unconscious.

The sound him falling to the ground distracted Christine and she turned to face the subject of the noise.

"Erik! Now how was that called for?" She called out firmly. He rushed to her in a haste.

"That," he said gesturing to the unconscious Viscount "Is precisely what I wished to speak with you about."

She nodded with understanding and allowed him to pull her off to the awaiting carriage so they might return to the Opera Populaire before Raoul awoke and realized that he had indeed been defeated.

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Well there you go everybody! The moment you've all been waiting for (and not very patiently I might add) But anyway, you may have noticed how I added Christine's attempts to actually _stop the fight_...I don't know something in that scene in the movie just didn't make me think much of her...so this time I wrote her up a backbone! You like? Hate? Please review and let me know what your thinking!


	11. Revealed Expression

Hello everybody! Wow two chapters in one day! (Well aren't you all just soooooo lucky!)

Disclaimer: I got nothing!

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The ingenuous ballet girls knew the wrath of their instructor as Madam Giry strictly guided them though their afternoon rehearsal. It was typical that the older woman was more than sharp. But on this particular day, after having a frantic conversation with her daughter the ballet tutor seemed more wound up than usual, snapping at every mismatched move and every stance that boarded on incorrect posture. The girls looked at each other miserably, each envisioning what in the world had made their dance mistress so distressed and why the young Meg Giry herself was missing the rehearsal.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Stillness once again layered the catacombs of the Opera House. However on this occasion the peculiarity of the silence revolved around Erik and the fact that he sat diligently at his organ and yet had no motivation to play.

Christine sat nearby, unsure of what to say herself. The confusion of their situation was a unique one. She should be furious with him, annoyed with the fact that he resorted to violence yet again…He had broken his promise to her…given her his word then took it back in an instant of anger and retribution.

"What would you have had me done?" He asked suddenly. Christine was amazed at his keen ability to read her mind: A capability that she found to be frightening and somewhat attractive at the same time.

She stood pulling her arms across her body, trying to ignore the cold that she felt in her blood. "_Anything_ else Erik! Why must you always lose your temper and let your anger get the best of you?"

"Even if it is in self-defense?" He asked loudly rising to meet her gaze. Unsure of how to answer she simply sighed sadly and returned to her seat. Another moment of silence passed between until Erik ruffled a hand though his disheveled hair and knelt down close her.

"I would never wish to cause you pain Christine." He said softly.

"I know." She smiled forlornly and brushed the strand hair from his brow. Erik closed his eyes take pleasure in the simple feel of her touch. He only opened his eyes again when he felt her flinch away from him and outright gasp.

"Erik your arm!" She exclaimed. His temple wrinkled in confusion as he glanced down to the shoulder that Christine stared at so attentively now.

"Oh yes…I'm afraid the Viscount got the better of me for a moment." He admitted diffidently. He grinned slightly as he rose and headed back towards his organ attempted to stop the flow of blood. Christine joined him at his side where she grabbed him firmly by the hand and led him to take a seat once more.

He didn't try to hide the amusement in his face as he watched her force him to sit down and tended to his wound. She ripped away the torn piece of shirt, and cleaned the abrasion carefully, only stopping every so often when he flinched from the stinging.

"Sorry." She mumbled sympathetically.

"My dear, any contact with your flesh is worth a thousand times that little bit of pain." He said with a soft undertone into her ear.

Her smile grew as she gently cleaned the gash. Afterward as she had finished wrapping the injury with a clean cloth she looked up at him to find his eyes centered on her face once more.

"What?" She asked good-naturedly, with her hands on her hips.

"You…are just so picturesque."

The adoring comment made Christine redden significantly and she attempted to cover her face from the unflattering element.

"You charmer you." She replied as she poking him with a firm finger.

Moving across the room she paused briefly in front of a series of lit candles that threw off a brilliant light around the cavern.

"What are we to do now Erik?" She said with the soberness returning once more.

"Well…I do have an idea." She turned to his face quickly her eyes wide in potential delight.

"Yes?"

The hesitation was evident in his demeanor. He failed to continue and instead stood sharply and glided to Christine's side, the anxiety in his face unmistakable.

"Erik? What? What is it?"

"Run away with me Christine." He said abruptly.

"What?" Shocked by the statement she backed away and gripped onto a nearby table to hold her balance.

"Come away with me." He stated again. "Over the years I've collected enough money from the mangers to subside as a decent living for several years! You know just as well as I do that the police, the Viscount and the rest of the damned company will never leave us be unless I get rid of them-"

"Erik no you can't!"

"Then come away with me Christine!" He said excitedly. "We could leave this place, devote ourselves to music and each other for the rest of our lives! I have enough funds to take care of us both-"

"But this is my home Erik! This is _our _home-"

"My home is where you are." He whispered softly as he took her hand in his own and kissed it delicately.

"What of my friends? And singing? You know how much I love being on the stage …" She lowered her eyes and walked across the small room to the dinning hall table where she sat down…suddenly feeling very tired.

"Other than the house on the sea…this place is all I've ever known. It's not that I don't want to…I just can't picture my life as anything other than theater bound."

He rushed to her side once more, eager to win her over. "Don't answer now! Just…think on it for a while. We still have more than plenty of time…there is something that I still have to do."

"What's that?" She asked with sudden interest. He merely smiled at her and proceeded to the music room where he returned shortly with several sheets of note music firmly in his hand with a large smirk planted on his face.

Christine wouldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was something she rarely saw in him, but when he handed her the stack of papers she soon discovered why. She smiled and shook her head playfully.

"Don Juan." She mumbled under her breath tracing several musical notes with her fingernail.

"Yes." He said excitedly. "There has to be a way to I get them to perform…" With that he turned swiftly and rubbed his chin with his fingertips, evidently in deep thought.

"Without violence of course." He said smiling at what he knew would be a nervous Christine.

"Of course." She said with slight skepticism in her voice as she continued to read out the script.

He paced around the room, hands clasped firmly behind his back, watching Christine from the corner of his eye.

"Christine?"

"Hmm…?" She asked, clearly enthralled with the libretto.

"Would you be my Aminta?" She looked up at him when she heard the request and could only smile fondly at the request.

"Really? You wish me to play the lead?" She said with slight surprise. "Won't that look suspicious?"

"It matters not." He replied. "I refuse to cast some ruffian in the role because of a few meager misunderstands…no one is more fit for the role that you are Christine."

With that she stood and approached him excited with the prospect. "Well than in that case: yes I would love to play Aminta-"

Her proclamation was cut short when the sound of a distant scream echoed around the catacombs.

"What in the world was that?" She asked, with fear creeping up in her voice.

"I don't know, but stay here. Don't come out no matter what happens." And with that he grabbed his sword and eagerly rushed around the lake and through the darkness. By the time Christine called out for him to come back he was already gone.

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As the managers of the Opera Populiar each sat in their respectable seats, supposed of course by the shiny oak desks that came with each chair Firmin impatiently pulled the pocket watch from his jacket pocket while Andre whistled happily and tapped his fingers to the toon. He stopped shortly however when he received a stern glance from his partner and frowned suddenly at the lateness off their patron.

"Oh for God's sakes man will you relax he'll be here!" Andre said with a slight laugh.

"Sure Andre, _only you _would think that if you had asked a man to be in your office for a business meeting at three p.m. he'd show up at four p.m. instead!" He declaimed sarcastically.

The mediocre argument was cut short by the abrupt knocking on their door.

"Yes, yes come in!" Called Firmin annoyed.

A young assistant entered cautiously and approached her boss nervously.

"Well? Is he here _yet_ Charlotte?"

"Um…No…no sir…" She stuttered.

"Then why are you in my office you silly girl!" She visibly jumped at the mean remark and blinked in fear several time before continuing.

"Madam Carlotta wishes me to inform you-"

"Oh I've had about enough of that blasted woman give her whatever she wants and don't come back her until the Viscount shows up!" He barked.

"Well, well aren't my ears ringing." Called a voice from the door. Firmin's expression softened slightly as the young Viscount nodded his greetings to Charlotte and Andre and preceded to sit down.

"Well you are excused!" He exclaimed to the timid girl, though the sentence was barely spoken before she ran from the room eager to retreat from the scene.

"Well, Raoul! How kind of you to join us the afternoon." He smiled mockingly.

"Forgive me for the lateness sir but I was…preoccupied for the majority of the day-"

"Good lord man what happened to your face!" Exclaimed Andre as he leaned closer to examine the damage. A large black eye was setting in to the Viscount's features, while a small, but swollen gash rested on his cheekbone.

"I must say…" Began Firmin. "Were you attacked or something?"

"No, No!" Began the Viscount eager to save his pride. But as the men stared at him for an explanation an idea formed in his head and before he knew it a wicked smirk spread across his face.

"Well actually now that you mention it, I might as well tell you the truth…"

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Erik used the shadows he knew so well as an advantage now as he cautiously walked around his lair. Who could ever be foolish enough to possibly enter his home without permission? But worse yet, who else could possibly know where he lived? The scream had definitely been nearby…had definitely been female…but the question was: where had it come from?

He cautiously followed the sound of shuffling feet and it wasn't long before he was standing behind the very intruder of his home. With his weapon drawn he began to notice the odd movement of feet that the intruder was making…nearby were several rats…it only took a moment before he realized the intruder's identity. He crossed his arms annoyed over his chest and remained in the unseen shadows as Meg Giry screeched and scrummed around the school of rats that ran around her skirts.

"What," He began viciously. "Are you doing here?" He asked with more venom than necessary. Meg yelped once again and turned in the direction of the noise.

"I-I came here to see Christine." She said stuttering with wide eyes. Erik found her imitation of him amusing and continued to frighten the girl further.

"And what makes you think she's with me?" He asked with a cock of his head.

"Please Monsieur." She began. "I have some imperative matters that I absolutely have to speak to her with."

"What does this matter involve?" He asked.

She seemed tentative to continue but knew that her answer was the only ticket to get her to see her friend.

"The Viscount Monsieur…" Erik gritted his teeth and nodded understandably.

"Very well…follow me."

She did as she was told. Somewhat fearful and excited at the same time at the prospect of being one of the very few people allowed in the 'Evil Phantom's Lair' It was a pure thrill, even more so when they approached the shore to find Christine sitting impatiently: curling her hair in her fingers and tapping her foot eagerly.

"Christine!" She called running past Erik to embrace her dear friend.

"Meg?" She asked before she was nearly suffocated by the blonde's hug.

"Meg what is it what's wrong?" She asked knowing her presents down here could only mean the negative.

Meg's face fell as she began relived the tale. Christine's face paled extremely as she tightly held her friend's hand in her own offering any comfort that she could give. Both women ignored Erik as he stood by ominously hearing the tale himself for the first time.

This boy has gone far enough! It wasn't so much who he had attacked (for he never much cared for the younger Giry.) it was the unhappiness he had put upon Christine. The thought of the harassment _Christine's_ best friend had gone though, and the thought of how upset _Christine_ would be by the news only increased his anger and before he knew it he had slammed his fists against the table in rage. This action scared the girls considerably as they each turned to him with horror in their eyes…oh how he loathed that look.

"Meg where is you mother now?" He asked refusing to face them.

"She-she…should just be getting done with today's rehearsals Monsieur." He nodded and turned swiftly to the young ladies who still looked at him with a considerable amount of confusion.

"I fear I shall need her assistance with something." He said dolefully. Christine left Meg's side at this time and approached Erik fearfully.

"What do you intend to do?" She asked for their ears only.

"Do not worry Christine…I simply have a point to make."

"But Erik-"

"No Christine Not now." He said gesturing to Meg. "I want you to take the boat and return to Meg's room. Make sure people see you around so that they know you are no longer missing…if anyone asks simply tell them you were with Meg this entire time."

"Erik I don't know about this…"

"Please Christine, just do as I ask…" He leaned closer into her as to whisper in her ear. "…And don't forget what I asked you about." He said lovingly.

She was about to protest once more but he was gone before she could even think of the words to say. Meg was soon by her side hugging her friend gently to ease her of her fears.

"Don't worry Christine…I'm sure everything will be just fine."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Well that is just unbelievable!" Andre Exclaimed as he opened the door for himself, Firmin and the Patron.

"Yes, and of course we thank you for even coming down here at all!" Firmin shook his hand heartily and smiled widely and they exited the office and headed toward the front lobby.

"Well, my responsibilities as a Patron to this theater will not be undermined no matter what the circumstances!" He replied with a phony tone.

"Ah yes well everyone certainly appreciates your cooperation in this Viscount. Frankly, with all these disruptions revolving around the 'Phantom' and now with you getting attacked I'm surprised you even agreed to stay on for next season at all!" Andre Explained.

"Well, what can I say…" He said thinking of Christine. "I have made some important investments here that I refuse to be parted from…"

"Monsieur! Monsieur!" Called out a young girl as she ran towards the gentlemen.

"Charlotte? Good heaven's child what is it?" Asked Firmin as he took in her lack of breath and the frightened expression on her face.

"Something has happened sir you must come to the stage quickly!" She left no time to reply as she ran to the stage hurriedly. All three gentlemen looked at each other before shrugging and following the girl questionably.

When they at last reached the inner theater Firmin was gasping for breath and averted his eyes to the ground as he heaved for air. Not noticing the wide eye of his acquaintances and the crude tapping Andre was giving him on the shoulder. Finally fed up with the mess, Firmin slapped his partner's hand away and bellowed throughout the theater.

"What Andre what! For crying out loud is this a madhouse or a structure of the arts!" I say-"

"Monsieur…" Raoul whispered quietly gesturing in the direction of the stage. Firmin finally looked up and a sight unlike anything he had seen before awaited him.

Chorus and ballet girls clung to each other desperately as they halted to each side of the drawn stage curtain. Carlotta herself had fainted and her team of devotes were at their wits end at trying to awake her from her slumber. The shock and disgust among all the face of the people around could not be denied. Firmin himself gasped as his gaze landed on the center of the stage.

Hanging from a well-wired noose was a charred carcass that was burnt beyond recognition… the only identifiable feature were the eye sockets that_ actually _lacked eyes and a message tied to the chest that stated in blood-red ink:

"_**My demands will be met or the punishment for disobeying me will make you all wish you were burning in hell!"**_

The stagehands had ceased the burning of the cadaver but the smell of smoldering flesh remained in the air…as well as the pure terror that lived in every soul within eye distance.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Yes I know…I'm evil! Go ahead and review so you can confirm my evilness!


	12. Ligne de conduite

Hi people! Hey thank you all so very, very much for all the positive feedback you've been giving! I give out Gerald Butler clones out to you all!

Disclaimer: I live in a cardboard shack! What does that tell you?

P.s.-I've been told on several different occasions that I am in desperate need of an editor so as of now I am putting away the pride and would be more than happy to accept anyone who feels like being a beta reader.

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Even after an examination had occurred enlightening everyone that the 'carcass' was in fact an old dressmaker's dummy and the smell of burning flesh to be that of smoldering plastic the inhabitants of the Opera House still felt nervy. In fact even the roughest of stagehands were looking over their shoulders from time to time…jumping at every little noise. The apprehension invoked had once again earned a suggested curfew from the Opera administrators. Who were beside themselves with exasperation as they stormed back into their office with a huff and a grunt.

"Oh what are we to do now Andre?" Firmin practically collapsed in a nearby chair at the prospect of what their next move would be.

"Oh Firmin…?" Began Andre in a singsong voice.

"Yes?" He groaned in response.

Andre held up a parchment envelope with a red wax skull as the seal. "I don't believe we'll have to worry about figuring out what is 'demands' are."

Firmin took the envelope anxiously and opened it despite his best judgment.

_My Dearest Managers-_

_It would appear that recent situations have forced me to rely once more on the generosity that you are willing to undertake for me. No, No! Do not fret for I do not request a raise in salary. Instead you will find a composition of mine that I have written. This performance is entitled 'Don Juan' and if it is not performed as the next production in this theater…well my next victim will originally have a pulse…but will not end with one. _

_I have also included a casting list of the following members I wish to have for each role. I look forward to watching the rehearsals from my usual seat in box five. I wish you the Fondest of farewells... until next time gentlemen._

_Yours Truly,_

_O.G._

Andre and Firmin looked up at each other slowly. Firmin slowly put down the letter and sighed.

"He will make a fool of us yet Andre."

"I know…but what other choice do we have."

XxxxXXXXxxxx

As the winter came and went a season of momentary spring took its place. It only seemed brief however due to the frantic schedule of the Opera workers and it's participants. A rehearsal occurred every four to five hours equaling to three daily. And the seamstresses and stagehands of the theater were just as busy! What with the short notice of the production, the limited supplies to work with and of course…the feeling of intimidation that came with every lingering shadow near the ominous box five. The pressure that each participant felt could not be denied. In fact far more tiffs and insolent little arguments could be heard amongst the tired employees and the tension was mounting as the opening night of the Phantom's Opera drew closer and closer.

Currently centered on the stage was Madam Giry and her ballet girls as she instructed them in a manner she saw fit for the production.

"Come long now girls we've been practicing these stance all day, you should have it down by now!" Circling the girls she rolled her eyes at the sloppy movements, finally slapping her instructional whip down on the stage. A sound that distracted the nearby light maneuver enough to make him lose his balance on the plank that he stood upon and fall to the ground.

Madam Giry disregarded the chaos around her and simply focused on the task of perfecting the movement of her girls.

"We shall simply have to start the sequence again!"

"I'd like to see _her_ do this for hours straight." Whispered a redhead to her nearby friend. The girls within earshot nodded in agreement as the sounds of Carlotta's dog running lose, the profanities of a few Italian gentlemen and their instructor's voice rang in their ears.

Christine also watched from afar as an elderly seamstress fitted her costume for her role. She had to admit she was slightly surprised that the managers had rolled over so easily about the performance of Erik's masterpiece…then again the instant word leaked out about the House performing 'the ghosts mysterious work of art' the tickets had sold out within minutes.

"Ouch!" She yelped as she accidentally got stuck with a dresser's pin.

"Oh so sorry miss!" The elderly woman exclaimed as she smiled humbly. Christine returned the favor and allowed the older woman to finish her work while she thought in quietly about the proposal that Erik had suggested to her.

Frankly she wasn't sure if she could return the love Erik had for her. It was true that she cared for him more than most…but still their relationship was a confusing one and even at times awkward. They were practically unlike in every single way: while she longed for sunlight, he provoked only darkness. Yet still, when she heard him sing, or play his melodies something inside of her would force her to forget all their differences and make her want to be lost in the music…and often enough in him as well.

So what if she did submit to him? Would he expect her to perform all the duties that came with _running away _with someone or would they simply leave together and only be allies that only associated when necessary? Could he understand that she may never be able to love him romantically? Nevertheless she considered him to be the most worthy of her confidants and most sacred of companions. Was he aware of this trust she had in him? If she asked would he be capable of accepting her friendship as a friendship and nothing more?

A chill ran though her body as she recalled the last time she had asked the same of another suitor. Perhaps it was the fault of men in general who had difficulty accepting that there could be something they could not own or possess? Or was Raoul simply a bad example upon which to base Erik? Surly they were nothing alike! After all Raoul had a nasty temper, a sore losing streak…'_oh dear_'…she thought nervously, throwing the deliberation from her mind as quickly as it came.

Erik's passion was something that _could not _be compared. It saddened and astounded her at the thought of what his life would have been like had he not been born with his deformity. Surly Erik had thought of this himself? With an ordinary face, he would have been one of the most distinguished of mankind! He had a heart that could have held the empire of the world; and, as of now, he had to content himself with a cellar…

Then again what if she denied his proposition? And remained in the Opera Populaire as a chorus girl and modestly enjoyed her youth and secure lifestyle while she had it? Some were not so fortunate as her…could she give away this life she adored so much and exchange it for another?

"Ms Daaé!"

"Huh?" She answered looking at the woman whom had interrupted her thought. "Pardon me? I'm afraid I didn't catch that."

"I _said_: you have a visitor!" She called out louder than necessary. She walked away clearly annoyed by the girl's daydreaming and Christine's eyes followed her form until she came across the smiling eyes of the Viscount.

Her face fell instantly and she grabbed her lengthy skirts and headed towards him spitefully.

"What are you doing here?" She practically growled the question looking around to make sure the ears of others were preoccupied.

"Forgive me Christine for I know you are busy, especially with all the new…developments occurring lately." He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with his own outlining of the term.

"I simply wish to escort you to a late lunch Mademoiselle. I do hope you will accept my offer and join me?"

She glared at him savagely and replied, "What in the world makes you think I would want anything to do with you?" With that she turned abruptly and headed for the solace of her dressing room but Raoul jumped in front of her causing her to stop unexpectedly.

"Please sir," She said with a mocking tone. "Let me pass."

"Christine," Began he with a softer gesture. "I am trying to be nice."

She considered this declaration a moment before crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to her one hip and frowning.

"I offered you my friendship Raoul…you know I can't love you as anything more than that. Why are you trying to make things so difficult?"

"I am simply trying to shelter you from that-from you _tutor_ of yours-"

"He means not to harm me Raoul! But sometimes I would think you do!"

"This ghost, spirit of the dead, angel of music, whatever you call him is incapable of loving you Christine! What…do you think that fiend even knows the definition of devotion? Why that monster-"

"That _monster_ is more of a man than you'll ever be Viscount, for I should think you nothing more than a spoiled boy who is jealous over a harmless relationship! Now get out of my way and leave me be-" At this she tried to exceed him once more but Raoul took hold of her arm before he allowed her to do so.

He sighed in shame and hung his head. Christine saw the sag in his shoulders and almost felt pity for the boy whom so obviously was torn over the circumstances.

"I know I have acted childishly Christine…my feelings for you have blindly inspired me to the irrational things I've been doing lately."

"I am sure Meg Giry would agree with you!" She hushed.

"I know! Oh how I know Christine! But I am asking nothing more than for lunch. Come with me for a simple meal and hear me out. One hour at the most and I shall accompany you back to this stage myself."

Christine thought on the matter briefly and not wishing to further upset the Viscount and make a bad situation potentially worse she took his arm as he offered it to her. He smiled gratefully but she disclosed a pointed finger and professed:

"One hour Raoul! And not a second more."

He nodded to the agreement as he led them to the nearest exit. Little did either of them realize that pair of rancorous eyes were watching from above.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

"…So you see that is why I _attacked _Meg Giry as she claims." The Viscount stated sharply as he sipped on his tea. "How was I to know that she wasn't an associate of the Phantom? And for that matter how did I not know you were not at risk…after all no one had seen you since the Masquerade…"

Christine sighed and leaned back in her chair thoughtfully as she looked around the small café where they dined. It was true…had she been more considerate she would have reported back to her room at once, perhaps it was partially her fault that she had worried him so. Yet she grew angry yet again at the thought of the small scar that Erik would now carry because the Viscount just _had_ to 'rescue' her from her unfounded danger.

"That still doesn't excuse your actions Raoul. And what of the cemetery? You were concerned I was in peril?

He nodded quickly.

"Then why did you not ask me if I was so, before continuing it-"

"He started it Christine. He initiated the battle-"

"Then you should have finished it! Honest Raoul, sometimes I think you have not grown up a day from when we last saw each other at the house by the sea…" Her tone took on a happy nostalgic remedy to it as she recalled the days. Raoul seemed to sense her change in mood as well for he began to recite the story they both knew so well.

'Little Lotte let her mind wander...'

The familiar rhyme recoiled a smirk from her lips as she leaned in closer to hear the revived narrative.

"Little Lotte thought, _'Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or of shoes? Or of riddles or frocks_?"

"Those Picnics in the attic." She smiled fondly at the memory of their childhood bliss.

"Or of chocolates?" He grinned handsomely.

"Father playing the violin…" Christine clapped her hands together firmly while she laughed as Raoul imitated the image of a violin being played. He stopped instantly however and threw his hands across the table excitedly as though he had some great secret to tell.

"As we read to each other, dark stories of the north…"

"No." She stated firmly, gently touching his hand with her own. "_What I loved best_, Little Lottie Said, _'was when I'm asleep in my bed.' _And the angel of music sings songs in my head…"

His face fell instantly and he withdrew his hand from hers feeling vanquished in a way he couldn't quite explain.

The rest of their meeting was spent in silence.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

The days continued onward. Christine remained well preoccupied with rehearsals, costume fittings, and other important preparations and her free time practically became nonexistent.

She hadn't been aware at the responsibilities that came with having a lead role I the Opera. Other times when she had graced the stage as a lead it was by mere accident and though vocally she had been well-prepared she know knew nothing of the perfection she entailed as she practiced scales around the clock, memorized her scripts, and dealt with the other numerous details that she found now to be taking up the majority of her life.

While she didn't mind it necessarily, she found herself missing Erik and her other friend's horribly. She had spoken with Meg on a few occasions during meals. But now that they were involved in different elements of the Opera they rarely saw each other. And Erik…well they had enjoyed a few short meetings together. Hardly any time was spent for talking as he normally just gave her a tip or two on her harmonizing and scattered away without another word. It almost seemed as though he was avoiding her or some reason…then again Erik did have his times where solitary was the only element in which he could thrive.

It didn't matter if they didn't have as much time as she liked.

She knew he was there watching over her.

And more than most of the time that was enough.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

Hey after re-reading this chapter I could kind of see where you might find it a bit dull…but let me assure you that if you are indeed a little bored that things are about to get very interesting…

Please review! I thrive on feedback!


	13. Revelations

Hey everybody sorry it took me longer to update this chapter! But on the positive side you'll all be very pleased to know that I've consulted a fellow reviewer on proofreading and advising the story.

So thanks a bunch to Luthien Amarie and all my other reiewers!

Hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

Disclaimer: ok, seriously you should **all** know by now just how little I own (sighs sadly) I had to put this plot of layaway for crying out loud!

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She had touched his hand! 

Laughed with him and her eyes had lit up with glee as she did! 

What kind of a fool was he now? Watching from the rafters above the stage, he had witnessed her taking his arm and walking off with him...certainly she had gone against her will... Somehow he had followed them as they went from the Opera House to the fine carriage and to a small cafe.

Why did she do this to him? What possible motivation could she have in seeing him! Then not to tell him about it? She deceived him! He trusted her, allowed her to fool him into harebrained promises…! 

Erik slammed his fists against the organ, causing the keys to be painfully punctured and let out a dreadful sound in the progress. He flinched at the dissonant racket; hating the sound, himself and this perishing love he felt. Christine was still associating with that fop! She was still talking to him! Smiling and socializing with him! 

...He couldn't stand the reality of it. He avoided her as much as possible, only coming to see her when he felt she was in dire need of direction or guidance with her voice. But other than these occasional formal visits he could not force himself to be around her. Or see that smile of hers that he had once believed was saved only for him. 

Yes, she would be his Aminta. But nothing more. He raged on the ivory keys excruciatingly as he pictured how she and the Viscount were probably laughing at the proposal he bestowed. Well, fine! She could go! Leave him to the black amiss that was his home! Clearly nothing she said was true...and yet...

He loved her still!

"Damn her!" He called out, throwing some candles from their place on the table. He heaved in angry gulps of air, wishing he was incapable of breathing at all.

His eyes lowered as he approached his makeshift theater and, grinding his teeth viciously, he then proceeded to throw his arms wildly, knocking over all the imitation figurines of the company actresses and actors. 

Tonight he would not think of this betrayal. 

Tonight was his opening night after all… 

xxxxXXXXxxxx 

"Christine, are you ready yet?" Meg called impatiently from her place outside the door.

"Yes, just one more minute!" Christine exclaimed from the other side. 

A mere moment later Christine emerged slowly from her dressing room, anxiously awaiting her friend's opinion on her opening attire. Meg, however, merely gasped and smiled fondly. 

"Well it's certainly no wonder why Don Juan would want to seduce you!" In-between giggles she added in a more serious tone: "You really do look lovely, Christine." 

"Really? Do you think so?" Christine replied nervously, going back inside her room to glance herself over in the large mirror. Meg followed, rolling her eyes at her friend's fretfulness. 

"Oh don't tell me you're nervous, Christine! You were born for this role. You know all your lines by heart, your tone is perfect, and you look fantastic! What else do you have to worry about-" 

"I have not seen him in weeks, Meg." She whispered hoarsely, staring down at her feet. Meg paused at this, unsure of how to respond.

"Well...you know, I'm sure he's very busy! With his work being produced and everything-"

"Something isn't right, Meg...", she began, sitting down at her bureau table. "I can feel it." 

Meg came over and pulled her friend up playfully, a large grin on her face. "What you feel is nothing more than your nerves! Now don't worry. You'll be fine!" She would have continued further but a stagehand began roaming the halls, loudly shouting last calls. 

"I have to go!", Meg exclaimed excitedly. "Good luck!", she called out to her friend as she disappeared though the opened door.

"Bye, Meg." She smiled wearily as she sat once more, relishing the silence that she lately heard so rarely. She closed her eyes lazily and bent neck from side to side, groaning as she heard it crack. 

Her senses alerted her to the sound of soft footsteps behind her, and with the curtain opening so soon she couldn't think of anyone it could be except for...

"I'm glad you're here Erik." She whispered through her faint smile. "Actually there is something I wish to talk to you about before-" At this point she opened her eyes, but instead of seeing her angel's reflection in the mirror, she saw Raoul's. She turned briefly but was instantly met by a white cloth pushed against her mouth and nose. She struggled, but after a few sharp intakes of breath she found herself consumed by darkness and a hoarse voice whispering in her ear.

"Now I shall teach you the ways of love." 

xxxxXXXXxxxx 

Sounds of the people streaming into the Opera House could be heard from even the lowest level of the building. Erik dressed himself slowly, a morbid and sad feeling creeping into his soul. He almost felt as though he was dressing himself for his own funeral. Everything around him seemed to have an aura of death to it. Now it seemed as though his own mask was the coffin which he hid from...the lair a tomb that was never large enough to keep his music sane, to live a life in which he had never believed... a life with Christine. It was hopeless. He knew that now. The charade that he kept up for a pitiful life was all hopeless! No change, love or light of any kind! He would never know beauty or the sun's light on his face... He started walking around the caves absent-mindedly. It seemed no longer his home now but a cruel dungeon... he was to be kept here until the day he died. Nothing... nothing would ever again be as heavenly as Christine.

He was interrupted in his anguish as the sound of a throat being cleared intruded his thoughts. Madam Giry smiled fondly and approached his gracefully, straightening the mask he wore with her thumb. 

For some reason unknown to him, he allowed her to do so. 

"What are you doing here?", he asked her coldly. 

"Well now Erik, I dare say you look rather torn.", she said with a slight frown, bringing her hand to her mouth in an concerned manner. "What troubles you?" 

He just laughed. He knew not why, for the statement was far from funny in any way...he supposed it simply seemed appropriate to mock the ironic question. What was troubling him? 

"What is troubling me, Madam!" He bellowed, turning to face her fragile form.

"What is troubling me!" He continued to repeated in-between laughs. "Humanity troubles me! This concept of love and devotion that the people above this prison speak of and so highly recommend!" He shook his head viciously back and forth as Mme. Giry stood by, saddened by his display.

"I have trained her! Taught her everything I know, made her a star overnight! Gave her everything I have inside of me... including my music! How am I repaid, you ask? With lies! She still lies to me!" 

"Erik, what-"

"I have loved her from the moment I saw her!" He sat down in a defeated manner this time sighing ashamed, expressing that he would be ready to forfeit everything he ever wrote or sang, every talent he possessed, just to know that Christine would love him. 

Madam Giry approached him then, resting her hand on his shoulder, and sighed. "True love is like a ghost which everyone talks about but only few have seen. I know you love Christine, and she cares for you as well. Why do you two not simply have faith in that and get on with your lives-"

"If she ever cared for me she does not now! Her heart now belongs to someone else." Madam Giry was clearly taken back slightly by the violent outburst, but persisted further. 

"Is the Viscount the one you speak of?" 

"He has tormented me to my last breath and I fear will do so up to the hour of my death."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Erik! Nothing is miserable unless you make it so! Life is too short for you to constantly be consumed by your jealousy and fear! Christine loves you! I can see it in her eyes when she speaks of you. Perhaps if you simply confronted her about her feelings instead of pushing her into your own then you two could find a solution!"

Erik looked up at her then, hesitant of what to say as an oncoming headache approached his skull. He wrapped his arms around his head at the words of harsh affection she spoke. Perhaps the older woman was right.

Wait... 

Christine loved him? How could this be? He would have easily been content with simply having her as a companion...it was difficult to believe that an angel like Christine could be capable of loving a creature like him.

"You really think she loves me?" She merely laughed at his insecurity and hugged him kindly before responding. 

"I believe in it with all my heart.", she alleged. 

The answer made Erik smile and he soon became engrossed in the thoughts of his beloved and the life that they might indeed share one day. He only looked up once more when Mme Giry began her voyage to the outside and turned to him slightly. 

"When the both of you are ready, make sure Christine comes up before the curtain is drawn."

"What?" He looked up, the confusion evident in his eyes. 

"Well...she is down here with you, isn't she?" , Mme. Giry asked, the concern growing more apparent with every word she spoke. 

Erik rose instantly. "No, she isn't." 

"Oh dear..." The woman paled considerably and approached Erik once more.

"No one has seen her since Meg left for the last call nearly half an hour ago! I assumed she was here with you somewhere!" 

Mme. Giry was cut off as Erik rushed passed her in a frenzy. 

"Perhaps she simply became nervous and went for a walk to clear her head?" Madam Giry continued onward with her suggestions as she watched Erik gather his things in preparation of his journey. "Or maybe she just had a last minute problem with her costume or something that she had to take care of-" She stopped suddenly as Erik began lifting the curtains of all the nearby mirrors and only stopped as he found the one he was looking for and began to trek through it. 

"Erik! Where are you going?" 

Her question went unanswered as Erik was long gone from hearing anything but the voices inside of his own head. Nothing mattered but Christine, for he knew she would not just have left without telling someone something of her destination. And though it was possible she was jumpy about the performance there was no way she would just leave the opera. Erik knew she was far too devoted to her art for this. He sighed as he moved along the tunnels, his main priority of a successful show changing to finding his beloved.


	14. Sauvez et rétablissez

Hello everyone! Here's another chapter for you to (hopefully) enjoy. As usual I beg of you to let me know what you think! I live for feedback!

Disclaimer: I don't even have a computer chair…I'm seriously sitting on an egg-crate right now. So forget any thought of me owning any of the characters in this fic! I got nothing!

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As Christine woke, she was greeted with a dull headache that throbbed around every inch of her skull. Even as she opened her eyes she felt the pain and flinched from the light of a nearby oil lamp that blinded her, closing her lids yet again. 

Thoughts and blurred visions of what had occurred flashed through her mind and she opened her eyes once more as her last conscious memory came to her mind.

"What is this? Where am I?" Mumbling to herself, she attempted to stretch her body but found herself enchained to a desk chair where her wrists and ankles had been expertly tied. Panic began to seep through her as be struggled against them, whining as she evidently got nowhere.

The sound of a door opening reclaimed her senses. A certain Viscount stood in the doorway condescendingly for a moment but rushed to Christine's side immediately at the sight of her struggle. 

"Now, now my dear you must be careful! I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"What is this Raoul? Have you lost your mind?" 

"Oh you mean the bonds?" he asked with a gesture of the ties. "Well, I couldn't have you running away on me, could I?" 

She began getting angry at his easygoing tone of voice and the lustful fashion in which he was looking at her so she replied: "Raoul, what in the hell are you talking about? Untie me this instant!" 

"I can't, Christine! Not yet anyway." he sighed tiredly and hung his head as he leaned over the chair she sat in and stroked her dark hair gently.

"I've tried to warn you, Christine, but you just wouldn't listen. I'm sorry if you think this measure is overly extreme but I had to get you away from that... God awful Opera House so I could try and explain to you one more time."

"Don't touch me! How dare you do this, Raoul? This is kidnapping! You can't just take someone against their will-" 

"But I've done this for good reason, Christine!" he interrupted, "You just need some time away from that place! It's poisoning your mind against me don't you see that? No one there understands you the way I do. No one-"

"Would ever drug me and take me against my will!" she retorted angrily. "Where in the world are we, anyway?" 

He smiled at the question, rising to brighten the lamp's light so she could better see the atmosphere around her. They appeared to be in what seemed like a very elegant bedroom, the walls a majestic blue and the trim painted silver with a touch of gold to the sidings. Very elaborate accessories and trinkets clung to the room and gave a certain distinctiveness to it. Something about that entire decorating scheme felt royal and exclusive. 

"This is my family's home, Christine. Don't you recognize it? Well, of course not! You haven't been here in ages. So much is changed that I think I shall have to give you a tour some time later. But first we have things to discuss."

She flinched as he tried to touch her once more. His brow grew wrinkled with anger as she shied away from him, clearly refusing to meet his eyes.

Grabbing her chin fiercely he pulled her face towards him and practically forced her to open her eyes.

"You will look at me when I'm talking to you, Christine! Oh, you don't know what I do for you. Even now I am only trying to make you see reason and you reject me still." He let go of her aching jaw, his gentle expression quickly returning as he smiled fondly and removed a strand piece of hair from her face. 

"It's as simple as this, Christine: You have no reason to stay in the hellhole of a theater. Your friends are all phony, pathetic degenerates. Your reputation has been stained by this disappearing act of yours and your 'precious angel' has turned out to be nothing more than a murderer. You deserve better, Christine! You deserve a life of love and happiness and everything money and a life of nobility could ever offer!" 

She just looked up at him as he pleaded his heart to her. She watched him with pity at his pathetic nature, feeling sorry for his obviously wounded mind. But above all, she looked at him with a rage in her eyes that she never even realized she possessed. 

"You call my friends 'phonies' when you yourself are the most counterfeit person I have ever known? You told me stories of the dark north when we were children, Raoul. Do you remember that? I would end up so fearful by the end of one of your adventures that you would have to put your arms around me just to calm my spirits. But now you are the villain, Raoul! You have come from deep within those storybooks and taken me from my home in some vile quest for love! You say my angel knows nothing of love? Well, at least he knows the ways of compassion and mercy! Unlike you-"

An open hand that collided with her cheekbone shocking her into silence and sent a wave of tears falling from her eyes cut her off. 

XxxxXXXXxxxx 

Erik entered Christine's dressing room quickly and quietly as to not attract attention from anyone nearby. After entering the dark room he crept along the darkness he knew so well until he reached a small lamp. He switched it on, grateful that the door was shut so no light could escape into the hall.

_Oh Christine, where in the world are you?_ He thought to himself. Flabbergasted, he looked around the spotless room that held no signs of a brawl. He searched for a note that perhaps stated her whereabouts; he also looked to see if her cloak was gone. All of these turned out to be frivolous and Erik sighed in frustration and was direly tempted to toss something about the room but feared the noise would attract unwanted attention. 

He sat and buried his head in his hands. Where was she? Was she safe? Was she unhurt? A dozen thoughts raced through his mind as he opened his eyes and looked down at the lavish carpet beneath him. It was an array of deep reds and violets swirled with patterns of deep brown, reminding him of late fall when the dead leaves swarmed the streets of Paris getting stuck in every nook and cranny around. Suddenly a flash of a brilliant white caught his eye. He noticed a small piece of cloth sticking out from under the sofa he sat upon now. He picked it up and explored the well-crafted stitching with his fore finger, pondering on what to do next when he noticed a familiar noble family crest and initials embroidered on the left corner. 

_RC_

XxxxXXXXxxxx 

It was slightly out of character for Madam Giry to bite her lip when nervousness conflicted with her, but when she did her face contorted slightly in the same fashion as her daughters. She glanced out briefly from her place behind the stage curtain to look at the people in the stands and seats around her. All of them were impatiently awaiting the beginning of the performance. She knew they couldn't delay much longer.

"Where is she!", André asked from his place behind the stage as he approached Mme. Giry.

"I don't know, sir. No one has seen her for quite some time." 

"Maybe the Opera ghost has taken her again!", a bubbly ballet girl from behind them called mockingly. However, she turned around and ran quickly when she was met by the stern glance of her ballet teacher. 

"Oh Firmin, what in the world are we to do now?" 

"Excusez-moi, Monsieur.", a wretched female voice from behind them called. The managers rolled their eyes at each other briefly before turning to face the egoistical Carlotta who stood by, fluttering her eyelashes suggestively.

"Perhaps I can be of some help?"

XxxxXXXXxxxx 

As Erik rode along the grassy countryside on a _borrowed_ stallion, he realized just how much he owed that helpful stable boy for showing him the direction of the Chagny estate. The night rolled on as a brisk breeze and a cold gust of wind promised a storm in the near future. Erik, however, paid no mind to the cold against his face as he rode though the wood. All his thoughts were with Christine and the potential torment she might now be facing. 

XxxxXXXXxxxx 

"I just want you to see how much I love you Christine! No Ghost or Ghoul could ever care for you as I do!" 

Christine refused to comply to the comment. She cried silently as he continued to express his love for her. Of course she knew that those words were false, but the sheer obsession with that he spoke for her rang true in his voice. What in the world would he do now that he had her at his mercy? No one knew of her being here, and even if they did, how could they possibly know she had been kidnapped? She felt her bottom lip tremble as she began to panic, realizing that she could in fact be here for a very long time and no one would ever know. 

As Erik approached the de Chagny estate, he examined the grounds and allowed his horse some rest time. Unfortunately for him, however, he had no time for such a thing as he stalked the grounds quickly and quietly, leaning low towards the ground as to not be seen. For although it was dark, the occasional flash of lightening would light up the sky and could easily allow him to be spotted should a person that may be looking in his direction.

Erik immediately noticed the size of the large manor. Even at night it offered an impressive view. In this moment, morbid and tragic thoughts ran through his mind: he knew he would never be able to offer this kind of life to Christine. He knew she deserved a big house like this...knew she deserved everything the world had to offer. But he shook these thoughts from his mind quickly and focused on the rescue of his beloved as he hurriedly descended over the large gate in the front of the house and made his way to the left side of the estate where he immediately noticed a faint light coming from the window. Luckily for him, a large balcony rested on the side of this room, wherefore he was grateful for he knew it would be an excellent place to hide, should he need one. 

Christine looked up at her mad capturer carefully, unsure of how to approach the insanity of which he spoke. But an idea of a possible escape formed in her head. And unsure of any other options she put her idea into play.

"You're right", she mumbled. The sudden change in interest forced the Viscount to look down at her with beseeching eyes. 

"You're right.", she repeated. "I have been a fool. Only someone who truly loves me would be willing to go through all this, just to make me see the errors of my ways." Then she looked up at him and smiled innocently, beckoning him to join her at her eye level. He knelt down beside her and placed his hand over hers tenderly. 

"I'm so glad you realize that now, Christine! I knew you would understand in the end."

She continued to smile at him fondly though a movement out of the corner of her eye distracted her slightly - a familiar movement that made her heart swell with glee and hope. Luckily the Viscount did not notice this and Christine used this as an opportunity to make him depart the room.

"Raoul, darling? Would you mind terribly getting me a glass of water?", she asked sweetly.

"Oh, of course not! How silly of me. You must be parched! I'll be right back, dear." With that he stood and placed a small kiss on her forehead. Christine tried desperately to keep her smile and not cringe from the touch, but it was a bit more of a challenge than she realized. The Viscount soon left the room, however, and, upon his doing so, a masked Phantom entered gracefully. 

"Well, well... It would appear I'm interrupting something." 

"Erik, don't you dare start on me now.", she whispered viciously. "Please, just get me out of here!" 

He no longer hesitated and he knelt to remove her ties with a quick twist of his sword. She threw her arms around him as soon as they were free and clung to him desperately.

"Did he hurt you?", Erik asked, his anger melting into concern as he felt her sob against him.

Christine just shook her head unable to form the words. At last they pulled away and he grabbed her hand eagerly. "Hurry. We won't have much time before he returns."

She nodded and allowed him to lead her as they began their journey from the small room to the balcony.

"Please don't tell me we are going down there from here..." Looking down at the cold earth below, the fear became evident in her voice. 

"Well, unless you have any other suggestions-" 

"Fine, let's just go." she said nervously as the sound of approaching footsteps came to her ears.

Erik could hear it too. He nodded solemnly and gently guided Christine over the balcony's balustrade.

"Just take your time climbing down. There are enough cracks in-between the bricks, but hold on to the side railing just in case. Just beyond the front gates, you'll find a horse. Take him back to the Opera Populaire-"

"Wait, Erik! You're not coming with me?" The panic was evident in her face as she said this.

"I can't, my love... at least not now. The Viscount and I need to finish this. Christine, you know that if we don't end this, he'll never leave us be... I'm afraid I have to break a promise." He caressed her left cheekbone tenderly, sending chills down her spine. She closed her eyes tightly, finally understanding and expressing this with a harsh nod.

Erik leaned in closer as he observed her internal anguish and whispered sincerely in her ear. "I love you. Do not be afraid. I will return for you soon."

Before she could call him back to her, he disappeared into the shadows of the room before leaving it completely. 

"Please be careful, Erik."

She did as she was told and began the journey downward, which proved to be slightly difficult considering she was still in her Don Juan costume. But at last, she landed on the ground soundly. Once more, she looked up at the window, them broke into a dead run towards the horse. She had followed his directions so far, but she knew she could not completely - for she would not leave him. 

She couldn't.


	15. Rain and Fire

Hey folks I really hope you are all satisfied with this chapter! It took me longer to write than I planned but I hope the wait is worth it!

Phantomluvr- Thanks for the offer but I already have an editor and I appreciate your sudden interest in my fic…and actually the first man-made plastic was unveiled by Alexander Parkes at the 1862 Great International Exhibition in London and I didn't really go with the date that the movie took place I was referring to the year the book was published in 1910. (Nice observation of detail though…)

Luthien- Sorry I was too impatient to wait for you. I suppose I just have the attention span of a child. Ha ha. That and the need to update was eating me alive! (well….not really but you get the idea)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my desperate need for reviews! (hint, hint)

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"Christine! Christine!" Called out the Viscount as he entered the vacant room. He rushed to the chair she had been sitting in just a short time ago and fingered the ropes that now lye on the ground. In a fit of fury he threw the glass of water across the room with a yell. The glass shattered into a dozen pieces and the unexpected action left the Viscount somewhat heaving for air.

"Now, now, now Viscount that's not very gentlemen like of you now is it?"

The Viscount turned around viciously to witness Erik as he stood sternly in the doorway his arms crossed arrogantly over his chest as he remained calm in demeanor.

"You!" The Viscount approached him with a pointed finger. "You! You did this," He raged with seething anger. "Where is she!"

"I fail to see how that's any concern of yours." He uncrossed his arms and stood defensively against his opponent as he withdrew his sword.

"Her whereabouts are my concern! I love her! Although I can't expect _something_ like you to understand that." He said with a scuff also withdrawing his weapon.

Erik merely nodded in an annoyed manner at the boy's definition of love. "It matters not, for you will not be disrupting our lives again fop!"

"I should say the same to you!"

With that the Viscount charged forward and he and the Phantom's blades crossed once more. While they both were rather skilled in the arts of swordsmanship each man was filled with a violent rage that fueled each motive enough to insure a swift death.

The men continued to fight; their blades meeting again and again as they trailed along the room knocking over tables and wall decorations and as the duel led into the hall neither man noticed the oil lamp that had also been knocked over in the process…

Christine hadn't ridden a horse bareback in quite some time. Therefore it was rather painful as she rode across the large estate's courtyard. She excused the ache from her mind however as she dug her heels deeper into the horse's side in an effort to get to Erik faster. For despite his ego and pride she knew that he might perhaps he would need some help. And at any rate a part of her wanted to prevent the death of her childhood friend. For although he was no doubt unstable, she still pitied his desperate nature. In a way it reminded her of her poor Erik who also at a time or two had been known to be impulsive. She just hoped she got there before it was too late.

The horse stopped suddenly as the skies opened up and a heavy rain began to fall making it difficult to make out anything in front of her. Christine did her best to calm the animal and to keep him going forward but clearly the creature had a fear of the thunder that crashed all around them so at long last she gave up on the being and dismounted as she began running towards the estate. She nearly broke out into a scream as she finally got within eye distance of the large home, for it was now covered in smoke and a deadly fire burned from nearly every upper story window.

Erik and the Viscount traveled down the main staircase: one in front of the other, blades maliciously making contact as their owners growled words of hates back and forth.

"She belongs to me! I won't let you drag you down into that hell of yours Phantom!"

"My hell is nothing compared to the hell she would suffer with you! You sir, are nothing more than pompous fool!"

The Viscount made a slightly surprising move at that time by adjusting the angle of his elbow to slash at the Phantom's knees. Erik however, anticipated this movement and contradicted it by up jumping over the blade and using the moment to stab the Viscount successfully in his chest.

Unfortunately the puncture wound wasn't very deep but it forced the Viscount to drop to his side, giving Erik a moment to recollect his wits.

It was _then_ he smelled the smoke, and it was _then_ that he realized the home was smothered in it. He removed his cloak quickly and placed part of it over his face to prevent inhaling anymore than he already had.

All thought focused on avoiding the blaze now. He made sure the Viscount was still on the ground before putting his blade away and exploring the lobby they were now in for a way out. He paced slightly and thought of using the front door but it too had quickly become ablaze from some encouragement from the nearby curtains. And before he could back away from the flames all the windows within the adjoining rooms shattered with an explosion simultaneously forcing him to jump back unaware that the Viscount was beginning to recover from his injury.

Raoul gritted his teeth into a sadistic smile before reaching for his rapier and sinking it firmly into the Phantom's Achilles tendon.

Erik cried out in agony dropping the protective cloak from his face and using his uninjured foot to kick the Viscount sternly in the face. He too cried out in pain as he reached out for his nose that was now erupting blood.

Erik felt no pity for the offended boy as he reached for his sword once again to finish the goal he set himself out for but the distinct cry of his beloved filled his ears and caused him to stop with the activity.

Christine was pounding ferociously against the front door of the house screaming Erik's name desperately.

"Erik! Erik are you in there! Erik!"

Erik looked up in the direction of her voice only to find a line of unforgiving fire burning away at its hinges. He knew that if she was capable of beating against the door from the outside and the fire had not yet collided with the exterior through this entrance it soon would. Panic rose deep within him and he called out:

"Christine! Christine get away from the door!" His words were slightly cut off however as the fire at long last busted though the door and exploded in a vision of gold and distortion heat yet the vicious noise was torn by the scream of Christine.

"Christine! Christine!" Erik called into the burning hall. He was unable to see anything as the smoke was now seeping in the way of his sight. He called out once more only to be greeted by silence. Her stillness was like a knife ripping though his heart. And fearing the worst Erik immediately went after her. He leaped over the remains of the flaming mess to the outside where he coughed viciously but continued to call out Christine's name. Little did he know the Viscount was traveling behind him and did not hesitate to bounce on the Phantom as soon as they were both outside the house.

Erik was evidently surprised by this attack as he tolerated the Viscount's brutal punches and blows to his face. He could have easily overpowered this boy, and the urge to kill was strong…but the need to find Christine was stronger. So he fervently pushed the Viscount from him and kicked him angrily in his side before returning to the search for Christine.

He blinked several times as he began to wander through the rain and smoke. It was doing damage to his senses for it took him what seemed like an eternity to at long last discovered Christine lying near what appeared to be a sea of rosebushes.

He rushed to her side with hesitation and knelt despite the pain in his body. Gently he examined her, luckily she didn't appear to have any burns but she was covered in smut and a large cut bled profusely from the right side of her temple. Erik attempted to wake her from her forced slumber but it was useless. She was knocked out cold. He felt as though he had breathed for the first time when he felt her pulse and confirmed her remaining existence. The sheer relief made him want to weep for joy yet the fire was climbing the grounds still catching to the outdoor sheds and trees. Erik looked around frantically before placing his arms around her: one under her neck another around her torso before picking her up and heading for the exits of the front gate when a hoarse voice rang to his ears.

"Hey Phantom we aren't finished!" He screamed. Erik stopped dead in his tracks hesitant to do any violence around Christine but knowing the need to rid him of their lives was there.

"Put her down and face me like the monster you are!" He bellowed as the lightening stuck behind him coming with it a strong rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the ground as he paused in the distance.

Erik glanced down briefly at his angel and noticed her paling as each moment passed by. He knew she could be injured more than she appeared to be but he wouldn't know for sure until she received medical assistance…and he wouldn't be able to do that without getting out of here safely himself. He hesitated but put Christine down gently on a grassy patch and placed a small kiss on her cheek then proceed to whisper something in her ear that only she and the falling rain were capable of hearing.

Erik then turned swiftly to face the Viscount, his brow wrinkled in anger as he glared his eyes dangerously at his adversary.

The Viscount was a sight indeed, for he was still bleeding from the wound in his chest and still blood gushed from his nostrils. Sweat dripped from his brow as his wide eyes devoured every detail of his rival. He smirked grossly and kicked a sword in Erik direction. Where it had come from Erik was unsure but the Viscount soon pulled out a similar one from his belt and pointed it swiftly in Erik's direction.

At the same second both men charged at one another slashing and defending each blow that the other attempted to make. Erik's movements were slow as he limped to avoid the graze of the sword. Several moments later Erik noticed the plummeting rain was falling into the Viscount's eyes distracting him enough for Erik to remove the Viscount's sword by puncturing his wrist and forcing him to drop the blade.

Raoul staggered backwards and cried out in agony as he used his other hand to apply pressure to the fresh wound. Erik used this as an opportunity and ran after the boy as he backed towards the house. The Viscount didn't realize the mistake in this as he was now trapped against the side of the home where the closeness of the fire made both men sweat. Erik held the tip of the sword at the Viscount's throat and nearly laughed at the fear in his rival's eye.

"She advised you to leave her be!" He shouted against the wind and rain. The inhalation of the smoke and the harshness of the weather forced a painful burning sensation to coil in his throat. As such he continued in a rough voice. "You should have listened to her."

Erik retracted his sword to at long last take the life of the fop but the Viscount reacted and ducked from the blow and used the moment to kick Erik directly in his left kneecap forcing him to the ground where the Viscount stood and grabbed the sword Erik held.

He smiled savagely as he pressed the blade against Erik's neck and yelled into the night:

"You need not fear Phantom! For Christine and I will be _very, very _happy together." The tone and emphasis he had put on the phrase implied something other than honorable behavior and the comment sent an indescribable rage flowing through Erik's veins that caused his blood to boil. Before he could respond however the sound of clatter echoed into the night and forced both men to look up in the direction of the racket.

Several bricks and flaming debris creaked and whined as it began to fall. Erik moved swiftly away from the rubble but the Viscount who still stood near the wall was not so fortunate or so quick.

Erik turned his head away as the boy let out a blood-curdling cry as several dozen pounds of brick, stone, and burning foundation planks fell on top of him. Erik was tempted to check for a pulse but the boy's screaming soon died and the hand that still held the sword went limp and lifeless.

The Viscount was no more.

Erik would have been more than pleased to further maim the body but his brutal thoughts quickly melted into concern for his love as he eagerly limped over to Christine. He was frustrated with his sluggish movements for it only meant he would get to her slower. At last he did fall to the ground by her side and almost immediately the once beautiful home had exploded from it's side and was collapsed completely from the roof downward. The smoke and rain still violated his mind but that still didn't prevent him from tending to Christine who was now just beginning to stir from her unconscious oblivion.

"Christine? Christine are you there? Can you here me? Please my love say something! Anything!" He pleaded to know that she was indeed out of harm's way.

He stroked her pale cheek with his shaking hand and continued to beg for her to regain consciousness. At long last a feeling of hopelessness creped into his soul and he began to sob as he buried his face in her soaked hair.

"I'm sorry Christine I'm so sorry! I have failed you! I should have been there to protect you…please come back. Return to me please Christine…I need you."

The words seemed to reach the young soprano from her nothingness as she began to stir once more. Erik didn't notice as she opened her eyes. He did however lift his face hopefully as she reached over to stroke his hair.

"Erik? Erik, what-what happened?" She asked in-between coughs as the smoke trespassed her lungs.

Erik smiled what was possibly the more sincere grin of his life as he heard the sound of Christine's voice. He simply took her hand in his as he lifted her up once more and began to transport them in the direction of their dreading horse.

"Don't worry about that now." He whispered as he attempted to cover her from the rain pelting her.

"I've got you now…your safe."

XxxxXXXXxxxx

So…? What do we think? Love it? Hate it? Do you just want to smack me because it's so bad or hug me because you like it?

Please let me know…I clearly **need** feedback.


	16. Don Juan

Hello Everyone I bring you another chapter and obviously by the title you can probably figure out what it's about… but nevertheless I'm here begging for your reviews…please review! And please attempt to ignore my horrendous grammar and spelling, I know it's awful and incredibly unprofessional but I do the best I can _(smacks brain and spell checker) _I don't exactly have a lot to work with here!

Author's notes- Wow over 100 reviews I am so not worthy! (But of course I humbily thank you all anyway!)

Disclaimer: I got nothing…but does anyone think I can get away with trading the spell checker program for Gerald Butler?

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"But we have no choice!" Firmin sneered to his companions.

Andre looked around in an exasperated fashion towards the group of onlookers who refused to take their eyes off the authorities congregation who were desperate for their next move.

"We simply cannot let that woman sing!" Madame Giry stamped her foot stubbornly.

"Well we can not wait much longer either! The audience is getting restless!" Whined Andre.

Firmin closed his eyes tightly and shook his head with a sigh. "Madame, as much I agree with you, Andre (for once) is right! We cannot wait any longer-"

"There is no need to Monsieur." Called a gentle voice from the crowd. The group turned and gasped at the sight of Mademoiselle Daae: her hair was knotted and matted with dead leaves, dirt smudged her features and her clothing was torn and ragged.

"Good lord child where have you been?" Firmin demanded.

"I am sorry sir I-"

"There is no time for explanations," Began Mme. Giry as she cut off the girl and led her by the hand to her dressing room. "We won't be more than five minutes gentlemen!" She called to the confused managers behind them.

Christine smiled to herself as the ballet mistress began preparing her for her performance. She tried to explain her actions to the Madam but she simply shushed her with a wave of her hand and continued to lead her though the halls.

She and Erik had indeed arrived safely at the Opera no more than a few minutes ago and while Erik insisted she needed time to rest and yet Christine could tell he was secretly disappointed by her incapability to perform as the reality of Don Juan dawned on them both.

"But Erik I am fine!" She said in an amused manner.

He stopped abruptly and looked at her with a careful but precise grin.

"We are bother very lucky to be alive tonight Christine. And as much as I would adore your talent this evening…I would rather not risk it and just be grateful-"

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand as a newfound sense of energy and adrenalin rushed through her. Filling her with a brilliant confidence that Erik swore he had never seen before.

But her smile quickly faded as she observed the wounds he carried.

"_You_ however need to rest," She said sternly taking his hands into her own. "I wouldn't blame you for not coming after all-"

He cut her off then by gently pulling her by her waist and forcing her closer to him. Tenderly he stroked her cheek and reassured her.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. If you think you can handle it…" With that he grinned wildly at her at kissed her forehead in a lame attempt to hide his excitement.

So as of now Mme. Giry was absent mindedly mumbling curses to herself as she attempted to fix Christine's hair and makeup. Luckily for them both there had been a spare gown that she could wear in replacement of her original opening attire and it suited her quite nicely. The relief the theater company felt as Mme. Giry delivered the young soprano to the stage as good as new as surly indescribable…

Christine had to remind herself to breath as the curtain was ceremoniously lifted. An excited if not overly enthusiastic clap erupted from the audience, as they clearly were pleased to see the initiation of the program. Christine nearly jumped out her skin when a timid Charlotte handed her a small wicker basket that was to be used as prop. She found herself at a loss for words when the young girl heartily whispered her good luck and genuinely wished her a successful performance. Christine realized her emotions were probably overly active at this point but the thrill was forcing her senses to new highs.

Glancing up at box five Christine could make out the abstract shape of a limping shadow as he entered and took in the settings around him. She bit her lip nervously knowing that Erik probably had been hurt more than he had let her believe but hopefully it wasn't anything he couldn't recover from. She recalled saddened as he described the death of Raoul, and a part of her felt guilt for the relief that came with knowing that Erik hadn't 'technically' killed him. Of course these thoughts were quickly filled with shame at the thought of her being so calmed over the death of her friend. Surly he had loved her in his own way…and yet he had been poisoned by his own insanity and obsession of her.

Again she looked up at box five and a chill ran through her spine when she realized he was no longer there but the sound of Piangi's voice soon brought her from her stupor and she fell into role of Antima once more and slipped into the fiery depths of hell.

_**Chorus:**  
Here the sire may serve the dam; here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat.  
_  
_**Carlotta and Chorus:**  
poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets, you will have to pay the bill- tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid Don Juan triumphs once again!_

**Don Juan (Piangi)**  
Passarino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan

**Passarino:**  
Your young guest believes I'm you- I, the master, you the man,

**Don Juan (Piangi)**  
When you met, you wore my cloak, she could not have seen your face. She believes she dines with me in her master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what in truth is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow with the wine. 

_Here's my hat, my cloak and sword. Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh._

Erik smiled from his spot on the rafters and couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with joy at the sight of Christine as she walked onto the stage radiating gasps of jealously from the women in the audience from her beauty. The pride he felt towards her was only highlighted by his love for her.

He winced as he attempted to apply pressure to his foot. Luckily he had stopped the bleeding and yet it still throbbed and he knew he should have not been walking on it so, let alone going to do what he was about to do and yet he knew he had to.

The final test.

He had to make sure Christine was still his and would be forever.

Piangi was exactly where he wanted him; Erik hit him upside the head roughly enough to render him unconscious but not hard enough to make his state of sleep permanent. He couldn't risk upsetting Christine. He would never again do anything to make her unhappy if he could at all evade it.

_**Aminta**  
"...no thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love."_

**Passarino**  
master? 

He smiled smugly to himself only hoping that Christine wouldn't disapprove of his sudden appearance he began to sing.

"_You have come here  
In pursuit of your deepest urge  
In pursuit of that wish which till now  
has been silent  
Silent.  
_  
_I have brought you  
That our passions may fuse and merge  
In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses  
Completely succumbed to me  
Now you are here with me  
No second thoughts   
You've decided  
Decided. _

_Past the point of no return  
No backward glances  
our games of make believe are at an end!_

Past all thought of "if" or "when"  
No use resisting  
Abandon thought and let the dream descend

What raging fire shall flood the soul  
What rich desire unlocks its door  
What sweet seduction lies before us?   
_  
Past the point of no return  
the final threshold  
what warm unspoken secrets  
will we learn  
beyond the point of no return?" _

She turned to face him and if she was surprised she never showed it. In fact she continued on as though she didn't even realize it was he and instead lowered her eyes innocently and stood assertively as she readjusted the straps of her gown.

"_You have brought me  
to that moment when words run dry  
to that moment when speech disappears  
into silence  
Silence. _  
_  
I have come here,  
Hardly knowing the reason why  
In my mind I've already imagined  
Our bodies entwining  
Defenseless and silent,   
Now I am here with you  
No second thoughts  
I've decided _  
_Decided…"_

She looked at him straight in his eyes at this point and nodded her head slightly knowing that only he would understand the action. A shiver ran through Erik as she stood against him like that. So filled with confidence and passion he scarcely believed she was the child he had once deceived or the mourning girl who wept nightly for her father. She was an adult now. Matured by a love and understanding that was so deep that even music would never be capable of capturing it's essence.

_  
"Past the point of no return  
No going back now  
our passion-play has now at last begun._

Past all thought of right or wrong  
one final question  
how long should we two wait before we're one? 

When will the blood begin to race  
the sleeping bud burst into bloom   
_When will the flames at last consume us?" _

At last they stood a mere few inches from each other but Erik changed that as he secured her body with his wrapping his arms around her protectively and stroking her arms gently with his fingertips: a sensation that appeared to make Christine weak in the knees for she breathed heavily against him and sighed deeply before they continued their passionate duet.

_Past the point of no return  
the final threshold  
The Bridge is crossed  
so stand and watch it burn  
we've passed the point of no return._

The audience stood by speechless as they watched the occurrence take place. It was truly the most heartfelt and realistic performances they had ever had the privilege of seeing. Some were even afraid that if they blinked they would miss something for an air of suspense lingered in the air and forced everyone to hold their breaths.

As Don Juan began singing once more however the tone to the song had changed from something demanding and dangerous to beautifully sincere and miserably melancholy. Erik began the last verse of his song, which was unknown to anyone, but himself and he spun Christine from his side so she stood in front of him and her wide eyes remained on him refusing to leave his own as she tightly clutched his hands.

"_Say you'll share with me _  
_One love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude_

Say you want me  
With you here  
Beside you  
Anywhere you go  
Let me go too  
Christine that's all I ask of you!"

The last note rang with such love and such beauty that the majority of the audience was in tears by the time it ended. Christine herself only waited until the lights of the scene closed around her and the curtain closed for intermission before she gently lifted Erik's mask and whispered softly into his ear words that he had been waiting a lifetime to hear:

"I love you."

She felt him shake and sob but before she could say anything more the lights returned and he was gone. The stagehands ran her off the platform so they could prepare for the next act. Christine smiled to herself as she ventured into the shadows and prepared to change into costume for the next scene. Her smile grew even wider as she remembered him whispering the very same words to her that evening. She hadn't thought about it when she leaned towards him to say them and yet somehow…

…She knew they were true.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

Later on as the company and its associates celebrated the success of the evening a few guards arrived and were received humorlessly by Madam Giry. They whispered to her in a morbid fashion and spoke to her very slowly of the news they wished to unveil. The ballet instructor nodded carefully and escorted them to the exit with a formal goodbye. Madame giry turned as the door closed behind them trying to decide if she should indeed break word of this news now. She shook her head fiercely and decided it best to wait until morning. Her daughter however witnessed the conversation between her mother and the police and was eager to receive word on the topic.

"Mother!" She called out in hopes of getting her attention. The older woman led her daughter away from the hectic scene and silently took her behind the shadows to tell her of what she knew she could not hide.

"There was a fire tonight Meg." She stated plainly. "At the de Chagny estate." Meg gasped at the meaning of this and read her mother's eyes at what it most likely meant.

"Was-was anyone hurt?" She asked quietly swallowing hard as she did so. Her mother merely stroked her daughter's long hair and nodded morbidly.

"I'm afraid the Viscount died this evening Chéri." She whispered. Madame Giry allowed the information to sink before she continued further. "You must tell no one of this knowledge Meg. I will formally announce this information in the morning," She looked around at the happiness and joy of the theater workers around her and smiled sadly. Knowing that they would all be burdened with the Viscount's passing soon enough anyway. "Do you understand Meg?"

Meg nodded softly and clasped her mother's hand with reassurance.

With that they silently parted ways and each went on their own venture and attempted to celebrate.

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Below the Opera House Erik was anxiously awaiting Christine's arrival. She of course had to make an appearance at the celebration to allude further suspicion, smiling and laughing she explained that she had been involved in an misunderstanding with a carriage accident and luckily for her acting skills (and the freshness of the wine) everyone believed her unfortunate tale.

Those moments were ones of pure annoyance for her however as her only current desire was to join Erik within the layers below the Opera House. Her happy expression faded as she walked passed a steaming Piangi as he held his hand to his head and argued angrily with Carlotta in Italian. She couldn't help but smile at the scene for it was so rarely that the lover's argued…although Christine suspected it had something to do with Piangi's headache and the Senoria's eagerness to control him. She waved farewell to her friends and claimed illness but gave a special wave to Meg who winked and smiled humbly in response. Theses were the times Christine was truly grateful for the relationship they had for although Meg had a rather obvious reputation for rumor spreading she knew the blonde would never reveal the secrets of tonight once she revealed them to her.

These thoughts remained with her as she entered the entrance through the dressing room mirror and walked through the dark tunnels, she was ecstatic when she realized the gondola was already awaiting her arrival on the other side. She smiled knowingly and climbed inside as she proceeded to eagerly row to the other side of the shore.

Erik was deeply transfixed on a piece he was performing when she arrived. The sound of the organ drove her to him as though it were the voice of siren and she allowed the haunting harmony to travel through her as she closed her eyes and swayed to the music.

"You were magnificent tonight." He said at last when the music stopped. Christine awoke from her trance to see that Erik had yet to face her and instead still sat at his organ bench faintly imitating the rhythm of the keys with his fingers.

"So were you." She replied suddenly feeling shy. Yet still after a moment of silence passed she took a place next to him on the bench and leaned her head against his shoulder abruptly feeling as though she should be very tired.

"Did you mean it." He asked suddenly. His voice louder than usual revealed a crack in his emotions as though his heart would be broken forever depending on her next words.

Christine naturally knew what he was referring to and simply placed her hand within his own and enlaced their fingers.

"With all my heart." She whispered with her shaking breath.

Erik shuttered then and broke down with such powerful weeping that Christine was startled and forced to move to kneel beside him.

"Erik? Erik are you alright?"

He looked down at her face of apprehension then proceeded to brush the strand pieces of hair from her face.

" I have _never_ been better my dear."

He embraced her then and shocked her into a frightened laughter and he spun her around in his arms playfully. She stopped his though after a moment and the seriousness of her position made him frightful once more. She didn't speak for several moments however and straightforwardly removed the black mask he still wore with her shaking fingers.

"As long as we are together I refuse to let you hide." With that she brushed the scared flesh with her fingertips and placed small kissed on each crevice of the hideous features.

The gesture forced him to cry such tears of joy that by the time he could regain his composure he realized that she had also been crying and was now attempting to rekindle her demeanor as well. They were lost in the silence of their tears as their bodied grew closer together, at long last their lips met in what started as a gentle kiss but turned quickly into something much more deep and passionate. They each desired more than could be spoken and greed took over every sense that they possessed. Eventually it came to a time where they had to pull apart…a desire that neither of them found necessary until the need for breath won over.

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Hey everyone hope nobody is at all disappointed with this chapter! You see, I had a slight writer's dilemma for some of you wanted to see some fluffiness and others begged me to banish Carlotta from that stage…so I compromised and included a little of both. Please oh please let me know what you think!

(gee I don't sound too pathetic do I?)


	17. La chasse commence

Hi everybody here's chapter 17. Hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: I got nothing but my God awful grammar and spelling skills.

**Mominator124**- ha ha! Oh I'm not done with the misery yet (insert evil laugh here)

**SnaggleTooth**- ha ha thanks for the suggestion I'll take it into consideration.

**Phantomluvr**- Yeah I just had to throw Carlotta in there somewhere! Ha ha.

_And I throw cookies to all my reviews!_

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" Ladies and gentlemen? Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention? " Shouted Firmin from his place of the stage.

All around them uproarious members of the theater committee laughed and wandered around the front auditorium due to the provoked success, which still lingered in the building from the previous evening. Many members had arrived early to prepare for the performance that was to occur that evening but stopped their tasks at the frantic sound of the manager's voice. Curious at the reason for the distress that was clearly on their employer's face they silenced themselves and stared intently at the staircase.

"I am afraid that I have some rather" He turned towards Andre unknowing of how to continue. "Unfortunate news to supply you all with this morning. "

Every ear was listening by then at the sound of a potential mishap. Many looked up whom had not been a moment ago and those closer to the back of the room strained their ears to hear the news.

"Yesterday evening a fire struck the Chagny estate. " Andre stated reluctantly.

At that time gasps and dramatic cries could be heard from everyone around and whispers and other verbal uprisings began.

"Sadly…our beloved patron Monsieur Raoul de Chagny did not survive this blaze and died late yesterday evening. " Firmin had to stop his words then for the sound of overemphasize cries could be heard from the overzealous chorus girl and their scream seemed to bounce off the walls. Others swore under their breath, while others merely rolled their eyes at what the managers thought to be "unfortunate"

"Obviously this misfortune has affected us all. But we must continue in the memory of our Patron! The show will continue in his honor! Therefore this evening's performance will be dedicated in his name…"

Meg Giry made an effort to look as shocked and horrified at the news of the deceased patron as her fellow ballerinas but found she faltered and hesitated slightly as the word spread.

"You know, " One girl said among the others "I bet this has something to do with the Opera Ghost! "

"Oh! I bet your right Claire! " Squealed the redhead to Meg's left. "The Viscount sat in box five once did he not? "

"Yes he did! And he was obviously never a fan of the Viscount, It's very possibly he set the Viscount's estate afire to prove a point! "

"I'm sure we shall find another letter sometime today saying that he claims responsibility for the incident! " Squealed another.

Meg immobilized herself at the sound of the gossip as it began to spread itself. Her mother had not mentioned how the fire had started in the first place. Did Christine's unusual tardiness have something to do with this?

Meg gasped at the realization of the situation and brought her hand to her mouth now feeling _the shock _for the first time that day.

"Meg are you all right? " Asked a petite girl by her side.

"Huh? "

"You just paled suddenly there…are you all right? "

"Yes. " She answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly for now the group stopped their chatter and turned to await her answer.

"I'm-I'm just frazzled at the thought of how the Viscount died," She whispered. "Will you excuse me? "

She did not wait for an answer before making a hardy exit from the auditorium and heading for her rooms but then to the place where she knew she would receive answers.

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As Erik awoke from his dreamless sleep a feeling of rapture gushed through him unlike anything he had ever known. He smiled even before his eyes opened as he recalled the events from the night before; for while they had been dreadful within themselves they had also been filled with a pleasure that had never been chartered before and frankly he was sure had been some sort of illusion that was sure to be unreal when he awoke.

With that thought he sat up straight in the swan bed he currently resided in. His eyes flew open in wild terror looking madly for Christine only to be relieved by the sight of her sleeping by his side peacefully. He sighed and smiled once more while brushing some of the curls from her face. As he lies back (with more careful nature this time as to not to disturb her) he wondered if this vision of beauty next to him was in fact some sort of delusion of grandeur. Was this really the love of his life that slept serenely beside him? Or was it just some cruel fantasy supplied by his mind…?

An overwhelming feeling of reassurance reached him as he reached downward to feel the soft skin of her hand and the warmth that generated from the flesh. He clutched her hand to his face gently for fear of waking her. He kissed the smooth palm softly and the small movement caused a shiver to pulse through her body that surprised him somewhat but made him smiles nevertheless.

He arose and moved from the bed instantly missing the warmth that her body generated next to his. His smile grew as he left her to her bliss and recalled how they had spent most of their evening enveloped in their music and had long last retired well after the sun had risen above the Opera Populaire. It was only with Christine's insistence that they slept in the same bed. She had bit her lip and asked coyly if he would stay with her. Something told Erik it was because she was still slightly unused to the surroundings of the lair yet she had blushed anyhow and he knew he could not refuse her.

Erik inaudibly walked through the underground home with the urge to compose rushing through him and yet as he sat at his organ and cracked his fingers in preparation he realized the thunderous noise would awake Christine and that was something he simply did not want to be responsible for. He chose instead to head to the library to find something to read and yet he could not force his mind to concentrate at the thought of that beautiful creature lying asleep just a few rooms from where he was now. These thoughts were interrupted however when the sound of a stiff squeal came from the outer reaches of the lake. He arose quickly from his chair and instantly his thoughts came back to Christine. He ran from his place and checked on her as she slept to find her soundly in her very own slumber. Knowing that she was safe and unharmed he quickly and quietly retreated to the shore of the lake where he ceased to blow away the candles that were nearby and proceeded to hide in the shadows and await for his intruder.

The beat of his heart pounded against his chest and he could have sworn the blood was bouncing through his ears at the thought of an upcoming conflict. Normally he was not afraid of death. In fact he would have welcomed his _visitor_ with opened arms…and then killed then…or they would have killed him.

But that did not matter then. It was the fact that Christine was involved now. The thought of something happening to her brought a permissible rage on his soul and in the darkness he found himself clenching his fists with his fingernail so deep in his palm that it drew blood.

"Hello? " Called out a faint voice from the darkness.

Erik let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance as the young Meg Giry emerged from the gloom looking frightened as Erik began lighting several more candles. His sudden appearance forced her to jump nearly out of her skin with surprise, and Erik was slightly amused by this but it was unreadable by the look of stone emotion that rested on his face.

"You and your mother appear to have a nasty habit of barging in where you don't belong. " He stated without so much as looking up at her.

She faltered considerably and searched the premises with her eyes as though she were looking for something direly important.

"Is-Is Christine here? "

"Developed a stutter have we young Giry? " Erik's voice dripped with sarcasm but Meg tried to ignore it as best she could.

And when Erik observed that she would indeed not be going anywhere until her search was complete he rolled his eyes and glanced in the direction of the bedroom Christine was currently in and said no more to the girl as he walked away into the makeshift kitchen.

His abrupt leaving left Meg confused but all the same she jolted to the door that Erik had insinuated and opened it carefully. For she too knew of the tricks the Phantom liked to play.

"Christine? " She said walking into the dark room slowly. "Are you here Christine? "

"Meg? " Mumbled a figure from her left. The mention of her name forced Meg to jump and let out yet another shrill scream and it was with this that Christine rushed to the night table and turned on a small lantern.

Meg was beyond relief when she turned to see light and her friend Christine once more who looked wrestled by sleep.

"Meg what are you doing here? What-" The brunette was shortly cut off as Meg rushed to hug her, her emotions getting the better of her.

"Oh Christine! " She said at last once they pulled away. "We have to talk. "

"What is it Meg? Is something wrong with your mother? Did-"

"No, No, No it's nothing like that, " She said with a dismissive of her hand. "But I think you and Erik may be in serious trouble. "

"Meg I do not understand. What is going on? "

Meg sighed sadly and proceeded to sit on the edge of the bed and twirled with her thumbs almost as though she were afraid to say something.

"Christine did you and Erik have something to do with the Viscount's demise? "

Christine turned away from her friend then as tears quickly formed in her eyes. With all the happiness she felt as she and Erik had declared their love for one another she had nearly forgotten all about the untimely death of her childhood friend and instantly a surge of guilt and regret ran though her unlike anything she had ever felt before. But it seemed also that a bottomless sadness filled her soul as well. Perhaps she could have said something to Raoul that would have saved him? Maybe if she had not taken him to the rooftop that night none of this would have ever happened...many thoughts consumed her mind but eventually she moved and joined her friend at the edge of the bed.

"I am afraid so Meg. Raoul came and took me to his home last night against my will...Erik came to save me and well- I suppose they fought the next thing I knew the home was ablaze and Erik told me later that he had been crushed by some rubble. "

"Oh Christine. " Was all Meg could manage to say?

"Christine? I know he cares for you but he has killed before and- well you have to consider the possibility that-"

"That what Meg? " She asked defensively.

"Well Christine come on, you did not see how Raoul died...now I realize you feel obligated to protect him and that you care for him but-"

"I more than just _care_ for him Meg, I love him! "

The declaration shocked Meg into silence, and she simply rose from her seat and paced the room nervously before turning to face her friend as though she had come to a conclusion of her own.

"Are you sure? " She asked childishly.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life

Another moment passed before Meg sat by her friend once more and embraced her in a genuine hug. "Well if you have faith in him than so shall I!" She said with false enthusiasm.

Christine smiled fondly and wiped some of the falling tears from her eyes. A moment of comfortable silence passed between the girls before Meg spoke up once more.

"Christine? There is something else we need to discuss."

"Yes Meg?"

"Christine, after Firmin and Andre formally announced Raoul's death rumors began to spread about you and "_The Phantom" _like wildfire. (No pun intended) This is not anything uncommon of course but this time people are starting to say...well I don't know how to say this but the talk is that you and he are responsible for the Viscount's death. They are conducting a formal investigation-"

"What? Is this investigation serious" Christine asked with obvious disbelief.

"I am afraid so...it appears that Raoul and the Police Commissioner where friends so-"

"Oh Lord." Christine whispered under her breath once again sitting down before the bed. "What am I to do Meg? I don't think I can stand the thought of him being prosecuted."

Meg stared on in disbelief at her friend's reaction to the news before continuing.

"Christine please I beg of you to be realistic about this and think of yourself!" Meg knelt in front of her with desperate eyes in an attempt to persuade her to compliment a different point of view. "While the Opera Ghost is merely a ghost in the eyes of most people, a legend and nothing more; you are flesh and blood Christine! Firmin and Andre have suspended you from participating in any further performances, the media are outside and has surrounded this place is like the plague, but worst of all they believe _you_ responsible for his death-"

Meg stopped in mid sentence then and looked towards her tearstained friend whose eyes were now tightly closed as though the harsh information hung over her as if threatening to crush her soul.

"Christine." She said in a softer tone. "This fiasco is not something that the Phantom, your angel, or anybody else can fix! You need-"

"Are you so sure about that Mademoiselle Giry?" Asked a harsh voice from the doorway. Christine looked up instantly and ran into his arms while Meg arose from her place but sunk back into the corner of the room as though she were afraid of something.

"Erik!" Christine exclaimed with a sob as she fell into his arms. "Do you hear what they are saying? They-They do not know what happened!"

"Shhhh." he said softly into her ear. "Do not worry yourself so darling. I will handle this." With that he released her and focused his eyes on the ballet rat in the corner. "Are you sure of what you heard young Giry?" His asked with obvious skepticism. Meg only swallowed hard and nodded as she then proceeded to hand him something out of her pocket, which appeared to be an important document.

"It was published this morning Monsieur." She whispered to the ground.

Erik looked back at Christine before opening the folded piece of paper and reading out loud for all to hear.

"_A Lover's Quarrel Turned to Horror?"_

_Foreword by: Delmar Florismart_

_Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes_

_Yesterday evening a well-known Viscount de _Chagny_ was killed in a fire that occurred in his home at the approximate time of ten p.m. At this phase the cause of the fire is unknown, and suspiciously enough the young soprano Mademoiselle Christine Daae (singer at the world renounce Opera _Populaire)_ was declared a suspect in his death after investigators discovered her odd lateness for the opening performance for the House's newest Opera "Don Juan Triumphant" And a potential motivation that has yet to be released._

_Even more so Mademoiselle Daae also went missing shortly following the performance's after party and has not been seen or heard from since. The investigators believe that Mademoiselle Daae and the Viscount had a relationship during their childhood but it is unknown as of their current affiliation upon the time of his death, for while some rumors suggest that Mademoiselle Daae and the Viscount were romantically involved such claim that no such thing would have ever occurred._

_Another impending suspect is the Opera's infamous Ghost whom has been confirmed to dislike the Viscount severally and has threatened him on several occasions. The local Polices have announced that Mademoiselle Daae has no alibi for the time of the Viscount's death and while suspicion glares it's head at the Opera House once more this recent horror leads this reporter to believe that perhaps the Opera Populaire is haunted after all..._

The last of Erik's words were cut off as Christine collapsed on the bed only to be soon joined by Meg who wiped the hair from her eyes and handed her a handkerchief. Even Meg though was soon pushed away when Erik ran to Christine side in a vain attempt to comfort her.

"Oh Erik what are we to do?" She asked in-between her sobs. He dabbed away at the tears on her cheeks and kissed her forehead gently in an attempt to sooth her pained expression.

"I am not yet sure my love...but I promise you that we will figure out something."

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Hey everybody look I don't want to appear ungrateful for your reviews or anything but please if you're just going to review to inform me of how horrible the grammar and spelling is then just don't bother. My editor has disappeared off the face of the earth and I just really don't have that brain function to see anything wrong with my grammar and spelling (which is not something I'm proud of) So please just spare me ok? I am aware of how amateurish it is and I am trying to make an effort to fix it, ok? So if it really bothers you that much than I'd rather just have you not read my fic. at all…sorry but that's just the way I feel about it.

(end temper tantrum here)


	18. Escape Preparation

Hey everyone here you go! Sorry about the delay...there really is no excuse for it so I won't even bother...just review!

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Erik continued to hold Christine as she wept for the status she now endured. He whispered words of comfort to her small frame and promised nothing but joy and serenity in the near future. Meg stood idly by watching the tender moment and feeling as though she were intruding on something important she quietly skipped out and remained just outside the entryway until Erik at long last came out looking weary and in need of an adequate night's rest. He ignored the blond as she followed him around in a timidly fashion only at long last turning to her when she asked him:

"Is she all right?" He seemed startled at the question as though he had long forgotten she was there at all.

"No." He replied sourly as he gritted his teeth. "But she will be."

The overly-confident, almost uncanny statement forced an acrimonious shiver to climb Meg's mind. And as so she remains in silence for a short time until she felt the need to conquer her curiosity practically bursting inside her.

"What are we going to do?" She whispered.

"We?" He asked with a sarcastic grin. "_We_ young Giry are going to do nothing. You, on the other hand are going to retrieve your mother and send her here at once. And I _do not_ care if she is busy so make no mind of her schedule." He replied firmly.

Meg of course did not need to be told twice for she fled as quickly as her legs would allow and without any farewells she left to do as she was directed. Erik waited until the girl had gone before sighing and tumbling into a neighboring chair. With many thoughts floating in his vector he sank he head in his hands and let out a tremendous sigh as an urge to scream raged through him. Never had he known such wrath! These people knew nothing of the truth and yet they would look to contaminate his angel's well-being and her career just to make a profit!

He stood up then and somberly retreated to the most desolate pit of the home leaving behind the candlelight, his love, and every rational thought he had ever possessed. When at last he reached the abandoned supply room he kicked over a large wooden chair before giving up on his legs and using his bare hands to and pick up the object, and smash it against the wall.

Oddly enough, the act seemed to calm him somewhat or a least enough to regain his sanity for he clenched his jaw and glanced at the hands that now held several splinters. He looked up at the dark wall that he knew only he was capable of seeing due to his unique nocturnal vision. He sighed once more feeling the events from the recent days taking its toll on him.

_Suspend her from performing his opera? Ruin her good-name and reputation for measly rumors and the sake of some reckless justice? Oh no he would not stand for this! He could not allow her life to be destroyed for the sake of the Viscount justified death! It would not be vindicated let alone reasonable in any sense!_

Oh how he wanted to seek revenge for her sake!

And yet as he reemerged from the darkness to join the candlelight and his beloved once more he knew he would not

...For he knew as badly as wanted vengeance, he wanted Christine's happiness even more.

And she could not be happy while being surrounded by hostility .

Erik sat once more and readjusted the wig he wore that now had become tangled due to his storming. He closed his eyes to the silence that engulfed around him and was nearly asleep himself when the sound of familiarized, rushed footsteps greeted his ears.

"Madam Giry." He greeted dully without even opening his eyes. "How _nice_ to _see_ you again." His manor was hardly an appropriate greeting but he nevertheless rose to greet them the oldest Giry and her daughter however rushed passed him with an authorized manor, Knocking him back in his seat with more force than he realized either woman was capable of.

"Where is she Erik?" Asked Madame Giry clearly intent on ignoring his sarcastic comment and derisive nature.

"The bedroom. But I warn you Madam she is in no mood-"

"Oh nonsense Erik." She exclaimed with her take charge attitude. "In times of crisis every girl need her mother. And since Christine's mother is no longer on this earth (Lord rest her soul) then I will simply have to suffice."

With that she and Meg disappeared leaving a speechless Erik alone once again with his pondering.

"Mother? Perhaps Erik is right, maybe we should just leave her be for a while, all this dreadful business might make her desire her to be alone-" Meg's opinion was cut off as her mother turned and glared at her with a stern glance. Meg shrugged herself and looked to the floor while her mother knocked gently on the door before entering.

Meg looked to her mother and shrugged at the sight of the darkness. Something they sure would not have expected from the soprano.

"Christine? Christine, dear are you hear?" Madame Giry asked.

"Yes." She whispered through a sniffle. "Just a moment."

A few seconds later a sconce of candles radiated the room with a brilliant light that Christine seemed to turn away from as soon as her eyes lay on them. Madam Giry approached her slowly before embracing the girl with a motherly like hug that lasted several minutes before she finally released her and guided her to sit on the bed. Meg soon joined them up pulling up a chair beside them.

"Oh Christine, Erik said you were sleeping..."

"I know." She replied hoarsely. "I pretended to be so he would go off and get some rest of his own." With that she looked up at Meg and smiled wearily. "He worries about me so."

Meg took her hand and smiled knowingly, while her mother gently stroked the girl's hair. "_You_ must learn to concern for yourself Chéri. Erik is capable of taking care of himself, and at this phase you are the one who needs the taking care of."

Christine shivered at the abrupt cold that flew through her body and rested her head on the older woman's shoulder. "What are we to do now?" She asked more to herself than anyone else.

"Christine do not worry I am sure you and Erik will think of something!" Meg exclaimed excitedly.

"That's right my dear, we must stay optimistic here! I will speak with Erik and I am sure we can find someway to sort this out."

Christine practically laughed at this comment and sat up in almost angry fashion. "We should not have to _sort_ this out!" She raged. "It should be easier than this, for every instinct inside me is telling me to tell the truth! Simply to emerge from this place and fix this misunderstanding by telling the truth!"

Madame Giry eyes widened at the sudden outburst by she but she bit her tongue and rose sternly to face the girl. "Christine think logically. If you do that then-"

"I know! I know Madam!" At this she descend on the bed once more and began sobbing yet again. "Erik would suffer if I did this. I-I cannot let this be."

Madam Giry also softened and reproached her by lending out her hand to hold. "Well, I must admit I never thought I would see the day: you and Erik all grown up, knowing what it means to be truly in love."

Christine looked up at her then to see the smiling woman lingering with some unidentified pride. "How did you know?" She asked at last.

"An old woman can tell these things of her children. But lets not concern ourselves with that now. The first thing we need to do is figure out how we are to alter this chaos." With that the women stood and Christine nodded intently as she and Meg followed her out to the main room where they found Erik sound asleep as nothing more than a dark figure engulfed in shadows.

Christine looked back and smiled at the girls and began to advance Erik carefully. She despised waking him but she knew they need him to figure out this situation to a clearer extend. She knelt down by his side and softly caressed the right side of his masked cheek causing him to stir slightly in his sleep. Out of the corner of her eye Christine could see Meg giggling slightly at the scene and Madam Giry eagerly shushing her daughter for her immaturity.

"Erik?" She whispered. "Its time to wake up my love...come back to me." At the sound of the request Erik's eyes darted open as though startled by the appeal. His features relaxed slightly as he came across Christine and her tearstained face and the sight inspired him to hurt those who had caused the flood of tears but decided against it. So instead to sooth his violent urge he instantly took her hand in his.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded eagerly in the hopes of resting his obvious fears. "Everything is all right dear," With that she gestured towards their guests. "The Giry's are here to lend a hand...as you requested?"

"Of course." With that he rose and gained his calmly, cool composer once more.

"Ladies." He greeted hardheartedly with a nod of his head. "Obviously we have a unappealing situation on our hands and-"

"Oh Erik stop this foolish formality and just get on with it! The fact of the matter is that you and Christine are in a considerable amount of trouble and somehow we have to find a way to rid you of it!" Christine smiled at the way Madame Giry could make Erik shrink from his position. It seemed a task only the ballet instructor would ever be capable of and it forced much respect from Christine who watched them with amusement evident in her grin.

"We'll have to leave." Christine said unhappily as she sat in the chair Erik had just come from. "If we tell them the truth then we shall most likely be arrested, and if we lie then the same will occur, either way one of us will end in jail and my career at the Opera Populaire will be more than over-"

Erik rushed to her side then cutting her off with a frightening composer. "But I-I can make them take you back! You shall sing in every and any part you wish-"

"But no one will take me seriously as an artist Erik. (Although I suspect they have not for quite some time) For the rest of my career I will have to learn to ignore unappealing whispers and rumors. I shall never have the security that I once thrived for here."

The calm tone in her voice and the serious and somber manor in which she said this hardened Erik's heart and he sighed miserably letting the hair fall in front of his face.

"Oh Christine, how can you every forgive me for this drama I have put you though? Truly my soul will be damned for all eternity for making you home such an unwelcome place for you-"

Christine smiled sadly and lifted his chin so that their eyes met. And began a proclamation for their ears only. "You once said that your home was where I was? Well my home is where you are Erik, I love you remember?" A slight tone of playfulness took her voice as she said this. "It doesn't matter where we go as long as we have one another and our music. Nothing else matters."

Erik resisted the urge to cry at that but luckily Madame Giry could sense the oncoming spirited emotion and knowing Erik's pride she gladly interrupted.

"So it's settled then. You and Erik will have to leave the House as soon as possible before someone around here actually thinks to check the cellars..." She rolled her eyes at the reminder of her ignorant employers.

"But where will they go mother?" Madam Giry sigh. "Well I suppose that will be up to them."

"I have more than enough savings." With that Erik disappeared into a room and came back mere moments later with a large envelope. "Find us a house Madam." With that he handed her the envelope to her and retreated to Christine.

"Something outside Paris." He stated continuing his instructions.

Meanwhile Madame Giry opened the envelope and she and Meg both looked at each other with widened eyes before returning their gaze to Erik.

"Are you sure Monsieur?" Meg asked. "This is a lot of money to entrust us with-"

"I am well aware of how much money is there Mademoiselle. Just do as I ask and we will figure out the details of our departure later."

Christine nodded in approval, just now realizing for the first time that she would probably be leaving the Opera Populaire permanently . The thought terrified her entirely. She had hardly even left the premises except for a brief walk or a light trip into town, and now here she was leaving the city with the man she loved only it wasn't exactly something she wholeheartedly wanted to do. After all she hadn't expected to live in the Opera Populaire all her life but nevertheless she had hoped that when she left she would be on her own will.

Something she would have expected for a long time.

An event she would have looked forward to.

…She didn't want to have to leave out of a twisted necessity.


	19. donner dedans

Hey folks here you go!

Disclaimer: I may have secretly kidnapped Gerald Butler...but he's all I got...I swear!

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Madame Giry walked swiftly through the halls of the Opera Populaire. So swiftly in fact that she nearly ran out of breath as she attempted to escape its premises. She was grateful that Meg was "covering for her" so to speak as she had informed her young daughter so claim that her mother was ailing and could not consult the rehearsal for the day. Meg was (the least to say) more than happy to participate in the adventure.

The ballet instructor wasted no time in completing the task before her and in turn ordered a carriage immediately and had spoken with an in town real estate agent who had given her the directions to some houses she might be interested in. Surly choosing a home for two people who would not so much as view it before they moved in would prove to be a difficult task and frankly Antoinette Giry was not looking forward to the grueling (and most likely irritating) day, that lay before her.

"Madam Giry I do say!" The sound of her name forced the woman to halt in her position and close her eyes tightly while swearing under her breath as the two annoyed managers approached her hurriedly.

"Where have you been all day!" Exclaimed Andre as he advanced towards her. Firming followed suit clearly as frustrated as his partner.

"Good lord woman we have been searching for you everywhere! Meg claimed you were ill but when the substitute went to look for you and your instructions for the ballet girls you were no where to be found!"

Madam Giry quickly regained her composer however and smiled falsely. "Forgive my absents but I fear I shall have to remain so for the rest of the day."

"And why is that?" Huffed Firming.

"Monsieur Firming I am surprised at you! How dare you intrude in a ladies' business when it is no one's business but her own! Now, if you will excuse me gentlemen I fear I have a pressing matter to attend to."

With that said she left and retreated to the fresh air that lingered out side the Opera house and proceeded to the carriage that awaited her there.

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Erik stood silently and somberly outside the door that Christine now used as a shield from his burning gaze. Despite what were probably her best efforts he could still hear her weeping and shuttering every so often with a sigh of misery.

He clenched his fists in an angry gesture until he felt his knuckles twist and fold unnaturally to the palm but when the action had become too painful he at last released the digits to stretch them against the cold and unfeeling embouchure that lye before him. Oh how he wanted to rush in there and hold her until her woes ceased! Nothing would have satisfied him more than to soothe her with his voice and declarations of love...

...And yet he knew these things would not help.

That fact riled him and sent feelings of self-loathing and distasteful rage galloping through his soul. These were the only things that he could give her! He was incapable of giving her a cavernous house in the country with open air and sunlight like the Viscount might once have! Nor could he ease away the horrors of the world despite his standings with them as well! What good was he to her now if he could not even appease her in her time of need!

Eventually Christine's sobbing quitted and Erik assumed that she had fallen into a fitful spell; for the occasional moan of misery could be heard every so often. Erik sighed deeply in his chest for once finding the catacombs air stall and dull.

No wonder Christine once believed she was incapable of being content here.

He sat miserably upon his organ bench and begin to think once more of their impending situation.It was beyond frustrating to fathom the accusations the media and police force had placed on his angel! Why it was a downright ridiculous theory that a divine creature such as Christine was capable of hurting another! The idea was so blindly unrealistic that it disgusted him! A sin against humanity of even think up such things...

And yet it appeared that there was no solution to the problem of _actually_ clearing her name. Sure they could run away together, (something he had dreamed himself) but the act would take away whatever impending innocents she had left and force a blanket of guilt upon her. Or the other hand he could just present the managers with a life and death query about allowing her to perform but that would only take care of only one of the many problems they faced and might create just as many in the process.

Clearly the situation called for something clever and ingenious. And yet as he pondered the details of the situation no thoughts connected themselves and formed a complete idea, and in the end the only logical conclusion Erik could comprehend was that above all else he wanted nothing more than Christine's happiness and safety.

And idea formed in his head as he though this. He arose silently and walked until he stood in front of Christine's door once more. Without permission he quietly opened it to find her fitfully sleeping on a bed of ragged sheets and surrounded by candles that were eagerly burning out the last of their remaining light. As he stared at her tear stained face Erik also came to another conclusion.

They would not accuse her of killing...if they already had their killer.

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When Christine awoke sometime later a feeling of overwhelming darkness and a lingering fog littered her brain. She arose quickly searching her bed as though she was missing something valuable and yet when she realized he would most likely not be there she stopped her search and collapsed on the bed once more groaning and covering her eyes with her forearm to rid herself of the impending hopelessness that seeped through her soul. As the days events came back to her she called out, and the only reply that returned to her was that of the echo that eerily followed her as she arose and reached for her robe to shield herself from the oncoming cold that eagerly greeted her when she left the lavish quilts and coverlet behind her.

Slowly and sadly she moved from her darkened room and lit a candle that awaited her on the brim of the doorway. She smiled softly at the gesture, knowing it was most likely her angel who had put it there. The thought of her Erik and the love she had for him brought haunting thoughts from within in.

She felt herself growing resentful at the thought of her and Erik running from the authorities for something they did not intentionally do…and yet what if she emerged to the outside and spoke of the truth? With little or no evidence they would no doubt think her lying and if not than Erik would be charged with the crime itself and that was something she simply could not allow him to endure.

The wretched thought that she might in fact lose her beloved made her all the more anxious to see him, for he would no doubt be worried about her previously frantic behavior.

"Erik?" She whispered into the music room as she entered it. "Erik are you here darling?"

The silence that she received told her he was indeed not and a sense of panic filtered though her soul and after a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself her she began her race from room to room in search for her guardian. Before she even finished looking in every place she knew of...she concluded that Erik would be nowhere in the facility.

She sighed sadly and collapsed upon the organ bench that Erik himself had rested upon himself on so many different duration She caressed the ivory keys as a small smile graced her features. She closed her eyes and could picture Erik sitting there beside her playing away and smiling at her as she sang beside him, their concentration for the music entwining them in something beyond romance and intimacy.

Christine almost hesitated to open her eyes once more and throw herself into the whirls of reality yet again but when she did so she found herself blinking several times just to readjust herself to the darkness around her. After several minutes an unnatural white caught her eye and she felt herself frown as she reached out to seek the odd material. Upon touching it she realized that it was a parchment-based envelope and after further exploration she found her name printed on the center of the front flap. She steadied her shaking hands that seemed to represent her nervousness at the potential note but she stopped as she took the document out of the envelope and shook her head to hid herself of the paranoia that was clearly taking over her.

_I am sure it's nothing._ She repeated to herself over and over. _It probably just explains where he has gone and when he will be returning…_

With that she lifted her chin at the parchment and carried it over to the pewter to light a variety of candles to light the darkening lair and without taking her eyes off the message she at last lifted it to her eye level and read the impending document.

_My Dearest Christine,_

_As I observe you in your slumber I am instantly reminded of a time where I actually believed there was a loving God somewhere in this world. Of course he never favored me, and naturally I knew this even as a child…but still I believe that some sort of creature had to be merciful towards even a hideous creature such as me._

_Looking at you now makes me wonder why I ever stopped believing in that. You truly radiate everything it means to be an angel, and I thank you for that now for it is only now that I begin to realize just how much you've changed me. I have hardly ever known compassion and you feed me it in great strides, you have taught me more about humanity and the blessing of life than I could have ever dreamed, you made me an angel and gave me companionship, but most of all you've loved me Christine…and that is something that I cannot possibly thank you enough for._

_For all the incredible things you've done for me I fear I have done nothing in return. As desperately as I desire you Christine there will always be a raft between us, and while this is something I have denied until this point I cannot continue to do so any longer. I cannot give you a sparkling home with gems and gold, nor can I give you that light upon which you thrive on, more so I fear that I could not be the father of your children as I am cowardice that my deformity would spread and as you may deny you need not any of these things I **do** know you desire to be a mother to a child someday…_

_Of all the reasons you should not be with me Christine I know the thought of your freedom being taken from you is a devastating thought, and as the young Giry predicted this is a situation I cannot fix as a Phantom. Therefore I beg your forgiveness, as I fear the only way I can recuperate this disaster for you is to reside this episode as a responsible human being. _

_I hope by the time you read this; my task will be complete. If not then I beg of you not to pursue me, for I shall soon be in the custody of the Paris Police. I realize they will most likely hang me for my crimes, they may even torture me first or even let the angry citizens of Paris have their way with me…but you must not think of that now my dearest. By this time they will be searching for you as I have claimed all responsibility for the Viscount's death and the burning of his home and your apparent kidnapping. I beg of you to accept my impending death, as it is to be. Let me do this for you Christine…_

_You have no reason to fret or fear my beloved. I assure you that now you will be safe and with me in the afterlife to no longer haunt you; you shall have the opportunity to claim everything you deserve in this world. Please know that I do this not because I desire death, but because I now understand what it means to love someone more than yourself: something you taught me as well. I beseech you to leave this matter be and perform as the 'phantom's' innocent victim for as long as the media implies. Please know that I carry your voice with me always and it will insure I die with a smile on my vile face. And that perhaps this awarded fate is the only way I can truly be your angel of music._

_Eternally Yours,_

_Erik_

An acidic scream rang the lairs of cellar beneath the Opera House…Christine nearly fell to her knees weeping as though she had never done so before dropping to the floor completely and beginning an intensely desperate prayer.

"Oh dear God what have I done that would ever make him think_ freedom _would be better than a life without him!" The realization of his destined goal bombarded her then and she pitifully pleaded out to the darkness in-between sobs.

"Lord have mercy on my soul for if he dies in my name I shall surly be sent to Hades! Oh Erik why! How could you make such a foolish sacrifice!"

She arose then, a new sense of vindictive purpose filling her every waking component. She vectored to her chamber and dressed in appropriate garments before making a hasty journey to the surface where she only prayed that she could find assistance. She stopped briefly however before entering the opposite end of her dressing room and sighed shakily before asking the darkness around her:

"Oh Erik what in the world have you subjected yourself to?"


	20. Decisions

Hey everybody! Long time no see...(blame it on my boss) Anyway, here's the latest chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I have a minimun-wage, part-time job...how much to you _think_ I own!

a/n-Speacial thanks to Barb for editing this chapter! _(I hope you guys approve of the improvments!) _And to my reviews!

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With a firm kick to the chest, he fell back against the cold, stone floor. Slowly but surely he opened his eyes to the darkened room and the reality of the barbaric and cruel insults that were being thrown in his direction. Despite their demand, he refused to sit upright and instead remained on the floor staring at the ceiling with its leaking surfaces until several ruthless hands grabbed at his bloody collar and forced him to his knees. He was not there for long however before a whip found its way to the skin upon his back and tore at the last scrapt of shirt left on his frame. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the pain of the action, the response only fueling the victimizers further.

They continued to savagely beat their captive and brutalize him until he was incapable of remaining conscious for more than a few seconds at a time.

And when at last they had bored themselves with the sport they, locked their captive (to who they called a monster) and left the dungeons and traveled upstairs where the front desk was well lit and fresh liquor awaited them as a reward for at last capturing the Phantom of the Opera.

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"Come along now girls, I know each and everyone of you is capable of a deeper stork stretch than _that_!" Screeched one of the older members of the Ballet De Coups.

"What in God's name does _she_ know?" Whispered one girl to a friend beside her.

"I know, really! She cannot be more than a few years ahead of us lesson wise and she thinks she can boss us around like-"

"Excuse me ladies but do you have something to say that you would like to share with the rest of us?"

Both girls looked at their substitute with guilt upon their faces. Then looked back at one another sheepishly.

"No Madam," They stated at the same instant.

"Then if you don't mind, the rest of us would like to continue!"

The girls bowed apologetically and continued with their lesson each amazed that they would have greatly preferred Madam Giry to the arrogant young woman who barked at them.

However, a few moments later their silent prayers were answered when a frenzied disruption saved them from further ridicule. At first the young girls merely stopped their exercises and stared in the direction of the hysterical young woman who seemed to appear from nowhere. By the time the stranger finished struggling to make her way from the front lobby to the theatre itself, most of the ballet girls were gasping and whispering wild rumors to one another as they began to recognize the young woman as none other than Christine Daae.

She rushed to the stage, overlooking the many stares and uncomfortable glances she received from the stagehands and focused directly upon the stage itself.

"Is Madam Giry or her daughter her?" She asked breathlessly.

"Well- Um...No Madam, I am afraid Mme. Giry took ill this morning and her young daughter is looking after her," Replied the overwhelmed ballet instructor.

The news seemed to devastate the young woman and she bit her lip clearly to withhold a stiffle as she ruffled a gloved hand through her wild curls.

"Mademoiselle Daae?" Continued the substitute instructor. "I realize your affairs are none of my business but I do believe the police force, the managers...and well- quite frankly everyone else in this city is looking for you. It may be best to check in with them at once. I understand the police have some questions about the Viscount-"

The woman had no time to finish her sentence before Christine turned abruptly and ran from the theatre, holding her skirts about her as she went. The women watched as she flew from them and no soul dared to stop her.

"Well!" Said the instructor after a moment of silence.

"That was without a doubt the rudest exit I have _ever _witnessed!"

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Several minutes later a quiet and seemingly empty hallway was disturbed by the forceful and frantic hammering on the dormitory door of Marguerite Giry. After a few moments of violent pounding, Christine Daae excused herself and her ladylike manners and let herself into the small room that belonged to her friend.

After intruding as quietly as possible, she let out a grieved sob and called out for her friend desperately.

"Meg! Meg, are you here?" She cried.

As she had before, she received silence and the sound was more discouraging than ever before. She sighed so deeply into her chest that her body shuttered. An overwhelming feeling of disaster of clouding her thoughts.

But she had to remain calm now! She had to hold back her emotions and think!

_...Erik's life depended on it._

Christine lit a small lamp and sat upon her friend's small bed, noting that the mattress appeared to be rather uncomfortable and much too firm actually to sleep on. Christine smile was sadly ironic all the evenings she had spent in Erik's home; sleeping on the feather-like bed he called her own. She had almost forgotten how incredibility uncomfortable the dwellings were for most of her fellow chorus and ballet members.

She smoothed the wrinkled quilt on the bed with her left hand and rose sadly. Silently she stood and cried in the room, a thousand thoughts running through her mind, mocking her and greedily taking her energy.

"Christine? Christine is that you?" Asked a familiar voice from the shadows of the doorway.

Christine looked over thankfully at her friend as she entered the room, a worried look place upon Meg's gentle features at the distressed sight of her friend. Christine's eyes widened at the sight of Meg, and she hugged her tightly.

"Oh Meg, something awful has happened!" She sobbed. "Erik-Erik he-he...!"

"I know Christine...I know." Meg whispered calmly. "I just stepped out for a moment to run an errand for mother and it seems like the only thing anyone is capable of talking about!"

Sadly, Meg released her friend and led her to a chair so Christine could compose herself.

"I don't know what to do, Meg! Is he already in the custody-"

"I am afraid so, Christine. Apparently a couple of guardsmen arrested him a few hours ago and they have him inprisoned ever since." Meg frowned as Christine continued to cry. She sighed and stroked Christine hair in a poor attempt at comfort.

"I don't understand Christine, why would he do something like this? He must know that they will want to hang him for his crimes-!"

Ironically enough, Christine began to laugh at that comment. A bitter and hateful sound that ruptured the silence of the room and startled Meg into pulling her hand away from her frightful friend.

"He's such a fool sometimes, Meg," She said suddenly, looking up from her laugher and tears. Her morbid expression forced Meg to look at her in silent worry. "I wish I could make him see how important he is to me."

With that said she paused in her sobbing to stare blankly at the wall across from her. The sudden absence of animation in Christine eyes frightened Meg and made her wonder if her friend was truly healthy or not.

"Christine? Christine, what-"

"We have to get him out, Meg," She whispered, her eyes never leaving the wall.

"What?" Meg exclaimed loudly. "Christine what are you talking about?" She asked more calmly.

Christine looked towards her friend, a clear and radiant look in her eyes. "I cannot let him die, Meg." She whispered, quite clearly overwhelmed by the realization. "I have to find a way to save him."

"Christine what you speak of is beyond illegal! Why, it's a crime that by itself would earn death by hanging-"

"Meg!" Christine said calmly but sternly. "I will do this with or without your help. Whether you wish to play a part in this or not is your decision. Frankly I do not blame you if you would just rather wash your hands of this forever...and I hate you ask this of you, given the circumstances...but you are my friend, Meg and I need your help."

Meg stiffened her upper lip and lifted her chin, suddenly feeling very brave and more than willing to assist her friend in any way necessary. "Of course I will help you, Christine," She replied. "But what do you propose we do?"

Her question was interrupted by the sound of laugher and screeching coming from the halls. The noises were soon followed by several pairs of foot steps and the swift reprimand of Madam Giry.

"You girls should be ashamed of yourselves! Parading around at a dreadful time like this! Get back to your rooms immediately and I don't want to see any of you again until tomorrow's rehearsals!"

Christine and Meg looked at each other briefly before hurring to meet the infuriated ballet instructor at the door.

"Mother! It is so good that you are back!" Meg exclaimed while helping her mother remove her shawl.

"I know dear, I know," She said calmly, rolling her eyes.

"I have heard of everything that has happened," She then proceeded to take a seat on Meg's bed. "The streets are filled with talk of nothing else," She explained as she removed her footwear.

"Madam, you must know-" Christine began. But Madame Giry merely silenced her with a wave of her hand and rose to embrace her adopted daughter.

"Do not worry, Christine. I too could not let him go along with this more than you could...we will get him back," She whispered into her ear. As they pulled away, Christine could not help but smile.

"What is it, my dear?" asked the older woman, clearly confused by this action.

"On top of everything else you do madam, it appears that you are a mind reader as well."

Madam Giry returned the smile then turned to face her daughter, who cleared her throat loudly from the corner. Christine turned to face Meg as well, who appeared to be scuffing her feet anxiously against the hard floor.

"Forgive me for being skeptical, Mother, but breaking him out of the jail? Isn't that overly extreme? Besides, he will be given a trial like any other criminal. Perhaps if we got him an efficient lawyer then-"

"Don't be naive Meg," Mme.Giry replied harshly. "The people of Paris are out for blood and they will not stop until they've had their fill of it. You know better...vengence is the only thing that will ever outlast human stupidity in this world and the people will not be satisfied until they have had plenty of it!"

The room was silent then: each woman deep in her own thoughts of what had just been said. At last Madame Giry spoke up and Christine was now extremely grateful for her take-charge attitude.

"Meg, first we need information: where Erik is being held, when his supposed 'trial' date will be and so forth. If anyone can find these things out, I know it is you. Leave now and try to return before dark."

Meg excused herself and quickly grabbed a cloak before leaving the room and heading on her journey. Once left alone with Christine, Madame Giry explained herself further.

"Christine, you must come with me. Everyone believes you have been kidnapped...I have _much_ to discuss," She said sternly. And with that she grabbed Christine's hand and led her from the small room and down the dark halls, past the questioning stares of the ballets girls and the vulgar comments from the stagehands until they reached Madame Giry's own private Chambers.

"Why did we come here Madame?" Christine asked as she was being rushed in from the doorway.

"This room is far more private than Meg's. Besides, we would not want any nosey students of mine to overhear our conversation, would we?"

"I suppose you have a point."

"Christine," Madame Giry said taking a seat up her vanity while gesturing for Christine to sit beside her. "The police will wish to ask you some questions."

"I know this."

"Well, should anyone ask (and we most certainly know they will,) I believe it would be better if we followed Erik's directions and you continue to claim you were kidnapped by Erik, that you had no idea he was going to set the Viscount's home ablaze-"

"Wait," Christine whispered. "How did you know-"

"Erik wrote to me as well, Christine. Just after I returned from purchasing a house- I received a letter from a rather anxious messenger boy."

"So you knew about this! You knew of his intentions-"

"I most certainly did not, Christine! I heard nothing of the sort until I came into town. It was a letter simply stating what is to be done with his finances and requesting that I should help you if need be, and so forth."

"I am sorry, Madam," Christine sobbed as collapsed her head into her hands. "I am just so afraid..."

"I know, dear." She replied her tone softening slightly. "But Erik is one of the bravest people I know. Rest assured that he will be all right..."

"What we need is a plan," Madam Giry said after a time. "I have the outline of an idea but it requires some risky measures...Christine, I need to know that you are willing to take extreme actions to help Erik from this-this purely selfish situation he is gotten himself into!"

"Anything, Madame." Christine grabbed the older woman's shoulder slightly to ensure her point. "I will do whatever I must to save him..."


	21. minuit d'attente

Hello everyone! Thank you all so very much for all the fantastic reviews for the last chapter (I'm still blushing) So as requested I am updating as soon as I can...enjoy!

Disclaimer: By now if you don't know I own nothing...well then your just not smart.

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_"The _Fantôme _of the Opera Caught At Last!"_

_Foreword By: Delmar Florismart_

_Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes_

_**"No, no ladies and gentlemen the headline above is not another rumor among the townspeople but in fact the mesmerizing truth!"**_

_"The infamous Phantom that has haunted the Opera Populiare for nearly five years has in fact been caught and is currently being held by the Bureaux de Police de Paris. The ghost, who is in reality a deranged, unidentified individual, was captured early yesterday morning when several guards were about their daily patrol. Shortly after heading into Rue Saint-Maur, the gentlemen confronted what appeared to be a decrepit, elderly gentlemen. The guards regarded the man as suspicious, because of the odd hour, and upon stopping to question him, the 'elderly' gentlemen shed his cloak to reveal a strange, masked person and abruptly began attacking them, causing serious injuries to their persons. Once the guards at last captured the bizarre man, they recognized he fit the description of the Ghost that has been terrorizing the Opera Populaire for nearly five years._

_**'When we asked him if he knew anything about the Opera House his eyes just went wild! He began thrashing 'bout and claiming that the Red Death would claim all our souls!'** stated _Phlippe Charbonneau, an eight year veteran with the Bureau.

_After later examination, the creature was claimed mentally unstable. Several items reported stolen from the theater were found in his possession, and the confession is more than enough proof for the Phantom to be declared a misfit of society for the crimes with which he has been charged._

_After several a of interrogations, it was ddetermined that Mademoiselle Daae had originally been kidnapped and was in fact being coerced to later return to the Phantom. The Opera Ghost confessed that he threatened the lives of her friends and family to win her company and has more importantly confessed to the murders of Joseph Buquet (_chief sceneshifter at the Opera Populaire) _and the Vicomte Raoul Albert de Chagny. ( It is unconfirmed whether or not the murder of the Viscount was motivated by the rumored, romantic relationship between the Viscount and Miss Daae.)_

_But regardless the public outcry demands he be punished for his crimes as soon as soon as possible. Administrators claim that since the evidence is so tremendous the court case has not been found necessary and a simple hearing will take place later tomorrow afternoon and will only consist of the Commissaire de chef de police, Le maire, and a selected assortment of townspeople whom the Police believe will be helpful in deciding what is to be done with the man. But it is this reporter's opinion that the criminal deserves a swift justice for the heartache he has caused this great city, And the people who dwell within it."_

Christine flinched as she read the last words of the appalling article. She rolled the paper up and violently threw it towards the the corner of her room. She was grateful Meg had retrieved every available paper the city had to offer with news of the Phantom and while details varied, the essential facts remained the same including the location and time of Erik's hearing. The lack of evenhandedness and evident corruption aggravated her beyond comprehension and she gnawed on her fingernails angrily.

"Overwhelming evidence? What a joke!" she huffed to herself, tapping her foot in an attempt to rid herself of her nervous energy.

Several minutes later she felt revolted with herself, her thoughts turned to Erik once more. For the last two days she had done nothing but dreamt of and yearned for him. How horrible the pain he must be going through right now! How dreadful the ordeal? She sighed and rose from her seat to stand at the window nearby.

The sight outside was truly a lovely one, the sun was just beginning to set, the sky turning a variety of pink's and oranges. Beyond it children were playing in the street, eager to use these last few moments of freedom before the darkness of the night descended. Christine smiled and realized that it would only be a short time now before Madame Giry's plan would be put into action. And soon, with any luck Erik would be free from the jail that detained him.

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Men and women of all ages and classes wandered around the streets of Paris on this same evening in frantic attempts to finish their daily chores before hours of darkness came upon them. The sky was clear and littered with a few stars as the sun dropped below the horizon, promising tranquil weather for the night. Upon the street where the Sièges sociaux de police was located, the few street lanterns that were capable of making _any_ light faltered under a heavy gust of wind and the area quickly grew dark.

Below the pleasing to the eye Sièges sociaux de police, a less attractive set of rooms stood side by side providing a dungeon for any criminals that the city may receive. However, the only jail cell currently being occupied by that of a ghost.

Or at least someone who used to be a ghost.

But now he was only a broken man and as Erik lifted his head a slow feeling of pain grew from remaining cramped in the same position for so long. Without lifting his eyes, he glanced at his hands, stained by blood and the grime of the cell. He almost felt like laughing then, for it was hard to believe such gruesome looking hands had ever played something as wonderful as the piano...or touched something as beautiful as Christine.

He felt his heart swell then and he closed his eyes in an attempt to visualize his angel once more. Oh how he longed for her! To hear her voice, to see her face and feel her soft hand upon his brow!

Erik sighed and slumped against the stone wall beside him. The renewed throbbing from his previous injuries sending him wincing and throwing his head back in agony. He stifled a scream by biting his lip, only releasing his grasp when he tasted blood. Afterward, he continued to breathe heavily, taking in air in great gulps, hoping somehow the element of necessity would rid him of the blinding pain that came from his torn back, his fractured side, and what he presumed to be his several broken bones. Despairingly, he closed his eyes once more tunneling through his brain to find the voice of his angel that he had saved in every detail for such a situation as this.

Despite the surging torment of his injuries and the overwhelming sense of misfortune, Erik regretted nothing of what he had done. As the first of many beatings occurred he wondered briefly to himself if he had gone mad, but as time wore on in massive gaps of consciousness and unconsciousness, he knew that the decision he had made was perhaps idiotic but at least he would no longer have to worry for Christine's safety and that was worth a thousand years of torture if fate so desired it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the hefty footsteps that he instantly recognized to be one of the guards that was assigned to 'keep watch' over him. Instantly his presence brought the stench of expiring ale and pungent body odor. The overweight man strutted over, chuckling, twirling an club and hitting the bars in front of the cell, the sound echoing throughout the dungeons.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the freak!" he said at last stopping suddenly across from Erik.

After a moment of silence he asked mockingly, "Aww! What's the matter, freak, cat got your tongue?"

Erik continued to be unresponsive and remained in his position on the floor leaning his unmasked face against the cold stone.

"Well, that's all right! 'Cause I just came down here to share something wit' ya," he said in a calculating manner. Slowly he leaned closer to the bars, his large eyes scanning around for fear some invisible soul should hear his announcement.

He smiled wickedly, "I hear their gonna hang you tomorrow." After that hearing they're gonna hang you from the gallows like a fish from the drying rack. The hearing is just for show, you see." He paused to place his grimy fingers against the bars. "The mayor and the other noblemen just want the public to think that _they_ are all merciful and sympathetic, or some damn thing, but their gonna hang ya!" he said speeding up his speech and chuckling even louder.

"Oh yeah _'Phantom'_ this is your last night on earth I can guaran-goddamn-tee that!" He laughed for several more minutes before pulling away from the bars to take a seat on a nearby chair wiping his eyes as he did so. "It's odd isn't I? I never thought someone who was supposed to be dead could be hanged."

Without his realization Erik had taken the jailer's moment of inattention to examine this jailer fully. Erik was replused by the overweight male, his multiple chins and pendulous flesh dangling about his sides. The chair he sat upon made a horrible sound when he landed upon it and despite the man's generous salary he lack the intellect to bathe, or take care of his many rotting teeth. That stuck about in a horrible fashion.

When at last Erik turned away unable to take in the sight any longer the man had stopped laughing but he spoke once more to make one more demeaning comment.

"Don't worry _Red Death_...soon you'll be going back to Hell where you came from."

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A lone figure stood among the shadows that outlined the Opera Populaire. Her cloak rustled around her legs as the crisp night breeze whipped around the corner. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered despite her effort not to. Patiently she awaited the stroke of midnight from the large clock tower nearby, her expression never changing as her eyes remained on the generously proportioned building.

She sighed and folded her hands together before putting them in front of her. She then proceeded to glance downward and roll her eyes at herself and her conspicuously nervous gestures.

Alone, she waited for the intimidating clock tower to toll, and her breath continued to grow heavier as time passed agonizing slow rate. However, she wasn't isolated for long before a slight tapping on her shoulder, alerted her that perhaps the current worry on her mind was _no longer _her biggest worry.

She jumped at the stranger's action and nearly yelped in preparation for attack but as she turned she was confronted by her childhood ally who was equally desperate to keep her dark haired friend from screaming.

"Christine! Christine it's just me!"

"Meg!" Christine shrieked with surprise at the familiarity of the voice . "What are you doing here? I thought we agreed to meet-"

"I know," The blonde said, cutting her off. "But mother had a change of heart and thought it best that I go to the station with you to save some time," she explained in a rushed whisper.

"Oh, I see," Christine replied. "Let's go then, I don't think I can stand waiting another second, let alone until midnight."

Meg glanced at the clock tower and back at her friend's worried face before responding with a firm nod of her head. "Ok, but let's be careful."

Christine nodded in agreement and the girls swiftly began their journey across town to their destination. The trip was silent, the only sounds that accompanied them were that of the wind as it whispered nothingness in their ears and that of the delicate tapping of their shoes as their feet carried the young women along the dark streets. Meg took many panicky glances in the direction of her companion who appeared to be staring at everything and nothing but her expression was blank, her skin pale. At last Meg stopped and halted Christine with her.

"Christine are you sure you want to do this?" Meg asked in a frightened whisper. It took several moments before Christine could reply but once she did she smiled greatly and placed her hands in Meg's as a show of reassurance.

"I never _wanted_ to do anything like this Meg," She whispered solemnly. "But I _have_ to do this, I love Erik far too much to know of his suffering and do nothing to stop it. Please try to understand Meg, I know this is probably the most foolish thing I've ever done...but I just cannot allow him to die."

Meg sighed and clutched Christine's hands a little tighter. "All right Christine, I'll play my part, but know that I don't do this for him! I mean, I do believe the man should be punished for what he's done...but you're my sister. And I love _you_ too much to watch you suffer." With that both girls smiled and hugged briefly before releasing each other and letting out a small laugh.

"I'll never be able to return your kindness, Meg," Christine whispered sadly.

Meg simply shrugged and replied with a grin. "You'll never need to…halfwit." she included in attempt to lift Christine's spirits.

"Ill-bred beetle." Christine retorted playfully with a wry smirk.

With that both women moved forward to the station, continuing the rest of the journey in silence. The night surrounding them enouraging them to finish their mission.

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_Death._

It was ironic; he had dreamed of death for so long. Prayed for it. Yearned for it. And even counted down the seconds until it enveloped to his miserable form and stopped his shriveled heart.

And here it was, ready and waiting for him. Reaching out it's distorted, desiccated fingers and inviting him forward…all he had to do was walk to the scaffold and stand upright while the noose was placed around his neck. But for some reason the thought evoked an emotion in him that he was beginning to recognize as fear. For he no longer daydreamed of dread and sorrow but only of Christine, and a life without her, even one in hell, seemed beyond horrible and he clenched his chest painfully. It wasn't the fact that he was going to die that frightened him.

It was the fact that he would never see Christine again.

He began to notice a slight wetness on his cheeks. Troubled by this, he opened his eyes and moved his hand to the source. They were tears that flooded from his eyes and they washed only some of the dirt from his features, he sighed sadly, choosing to close his eyes once more and ignore the burning of his orbs and attempting to swallow his tears.

A few moments later he forced himself to open his eyes again ass he heard rustling from above. He glanced around curiously for the source but he saw nothing but the darkness around him, yet the noises only continued to grow louder. The sound of screeching and loud clapping intruded upon his hearing but still he could see nothing of it's source. Frustrated with the fruitless search, he moaned and sat in the rancid strewn about hay of the floor. Despondently, he proceeded to hang his head in his hands twrilling the dirty strands of hair between his fingers. The laugher continued, resounding throughout the grounds. Annoyed, he covered his ears with his hands.

From the sounds of the vulgar and perverse comments that echoed from above, he could only guess that a female was keeping company with the guards. Their condescending yelps and whistles were driving into his skull, forcing him to shake his head violently back and forth and hum a well-known melody to himself to drown out of the horrible sounds. This wasn't the last human experience he wanted! He didn't want to hear the clatter of some revealed young woman being subjected to perversity like that!

But as the sounds continued to grow and build in his brain, he was unaware of another soul entering the dungeons. The quiet footsteps approached his cell hesitantly, as though they were lost and had never been there before. Erik, however simply hummed louder and bolted his eyes shut so tightly that his eyelids burned. The subconscious tears that he was shedding also wasn't of much help in improving the problem. Luckily, the footsteps had ceased their movement and a petite shadow loomed over him.

The silhouette remained over him, moving frantically trying to gain his attention, saying words he couldn't comprehend. He continued to discount it until at last of the loud laughter and obscene remarks subsided and the grim shadow ceased movement entirely. The sudden calm made Erik suspicious but his overwhelming inquisitiveness forced him to open his eyes and return to reality once more. A voice startled him back from his twisted dreams, desperate to reach in in his sorrow.

"_Erik…"_

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Oh aren't I just plain evil...


	22. Complications

OK **everyone** you (actually only **_some_** of you) have waited very patiently for this chapter and I really appericate it. Thanks for the reviews and please continue to give me feedback!

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With the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, Meg Giry entered the Police Station as hastily and as quietly as possible. This was a building she never had the need to be in before, but the well-constructed front lobby was relatively inviting and the warm atmosphere soothed her despite her nerve-racking objective. Around her, stood many leafy plants and solid, mahogany desks and chairs. Therefore, it surprised her when such a flabby and unkempt man approached her a mere moment after she had opened the large oak doors and let herself in.

He licked his lips at the sight of Meg and proceeded to speak an ill manner. "Can I help you, Mademoiselle?" Meg struggled achieve a believable response but after swallowing the reminder of her pride, she recovered rather quickly and smiled gracefully as she approached the man.

"Perhaps," she replied with a flutter of her eyelashes. "I was just walking home but all this _'Phantom'_ business has got me in such a worry that I must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. As I am sure you know, all the streets around here are so dark…"

"Say no more, miss. I'll get one of my boys to escort you home." He began to turn away, as if going to retrieve a guard but Meg stopped him with a flutter of her hand and a sudden cry.

"No!"

Instantly, the man turned around and eyed the girl suspiciously for her abrupt objection, but Meg simply smiled and twirled a strand of hair with her fingertips in a playful manor and explained:

"It's not that, monsieur. I'm quite certain I can find my way from here, but-um…well I realize this may sound rather silly but I'm a dancer at the Opera Populiare and some of the girls and I just aren't certain that the Phantom has really been captured for good." She pouted ub mock sadness as she finished her lamely explanation, hoping that the man was foolish enough to accept the blatant lie.

"Well, miss- uh what did you say your name was?" he asked.

Meg hadn't exactly been prepared for that question, mentally scolding herself for it. What was she going to say? She had to give the man a name, any name at all!

"Oh! Just call me… Jammes," Meg replied with a wicked grin.

"Right, Jammes. Well, rest assured little lady that we got the bugger in our custody and it's gonna be like that for a while…or until 'morrow at least." He beamed with pride as he finished the statement, stretching his arms and leaning against one of the desks with a heavy sigh.

"Tomorrow? Why until _just_ tomorrow?" Meg asked with nervous curiosity.

"Well," the man began with a chuckled menacingly, rubbing his chin. "I suppose I shouldn't be telling' nobody this…but- well the hearing is really just for the public's eye. We're ordered to hang the bastard at sundown."

"Oh? You don't say?" Meg's eyes began to betray her slightly as they widened in fear. The guard noticed this and approached her with minimal concern.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. Just relieved to hear justice will be served so swiftly and _accurately_." The sarcasm was evident in her voice, but again the guard didn't seem to notice.

Meg's new-found companion grinned lasciviously as he close to her. It was all she could do not to flinch from the man's horrible breath and his distasteful smell, but somehow she maintained her composure and smiled politely in response to his advances.

"So you're a dancer, huh?" he asked with mischief in his face and an eyebrow raised

Meg read his mind perfectly and only nodded anxiously, her eyes never leaving his, one hand beckoning behind her back to someone just outside the door awaiting the signal. The lustful man didn't even notice as Christine slipped through the door and past the front lobby through a nearby cooridor before exiting the vicinity altogether. Luckily she passed by unnnoticed to several other guards in nearby rooms.

"Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind giving us a bit of a demonstration then?"

After Meg silently cursed Christine in her mind she nodded seductively. "I might be convinced…"

The man nodded knowing, remembering the stories he had heard about such ballet brats who looked for men with power. This beautiful young thing could _certainly_ provide some amusement for his men…one way or another

"Hey lads get over here!" he called over his shoulder. "We got ourselves a bit of entertainment here!"

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Christine clung to the dark stairwell as though she were afraid she would fall from the earth if she were to release her grip from the stone wall. As quickly as she could without falling or tripping on herself she descended the stairs that led to what she, Meg and Madame Giry has presumed to be the dungeons upon an eariler investigation.She swallowed the lump her throat that constricted her breathing and at last reached an opening in the dark pathway only to be greeted by footsteps passing her in the corridor. Instantly, she froze and closed her eyes as she took in a sharp breath. Much to her fourtion however, the owner of the footsteps ran pasted her without even slowing down and she instantly sighed with relief. She stopped as she walked through the doorway to use the senses about her. From above her many male voices and the sound of feet scuffling against the floor was unmistakable, but even more so was the particular sound of humming that was coming from the area some distance away from her. She hastily used her fingers to scan the walls for any potential source of light. She nearly cried with relief when she at last felt what appeared to be a lantern and without hesitation, she lifted it from its hook and lit it with a match from her bag.

Once she had finished the changellenge of obtaining light her sense of smell took over and she instantly felt like wrenching at the scent of ammonia, fear laden sweat, and rotting feeces but somehow she regained her composure as thought of Erik took over once more. Covering her nose and swaying the lantern back and forth to frighten away the rodents she continued forward in the damp dungons, her shoes scrapping aganist the cobblestone passagways.

Christine found the noises from above becoming louder and she knew she did not have much longer before she would be interrupted and she and Meg would be caught. So she quickly blinked to adjust her eyes to the newfound light and began trailing along after the humming that had also grown louder.

"Erik?" she whispered as she ran from cell to cell only to find one after the other another empty. It was difficult to determine where the humming was comming from since the echo seemed to touch every stone of it's structure. She felt as though she was traveling in circles, becoming more and more frantic until at long last the humming ceased to be no more than a sound coming from a mere few feet away from her.

"Erik? Oh Erik speak to me, please!" she cried, dropping to her knees in front of the cell to search for the proper tool Madam Giry had suggested would pick the jail lock. But a moment later she realized the desperate humming had yet to cease. And panically, she reached out in a feeble attempt to get to Erik. She brought the lantern closer and the sight before and forced her to gasp

Erik sat huddled in the corner, his arms wrapped about himself, his hands protectively covering his ears. His shirt was a mere rag, his mask missing, the hair about his head tousledas though it had nearly been ripped out. Bloody gashes covered his flesh and and a couple bones seemed to protrude at odd angles.

"Erik! Oh God, Erik, snap out of it!" she pleaded as she continued to search for the tool the would successfully free him. She could not resist a smile when at long last she found one that appeared to work And she actually laughed when the door clicked and she pushed it open. But as she rushed to Erik, her smiled faded and tears threatened to escape her eyes at the sight of her beloved.

But Christine looked up, startled when the hectic sounds from above stopped abruptly. It was only a matter of moments now.

She knew her voice sounded pitiful, but she lacked the energy to concern herself with that minor detail. "Erik…"

At last his dreadful humming stopped and when he opened his eyes, his expression brightened significantly.

"Christine?" he asked with disbelief.

Christine was so overjoyed at the sound of his husky voice that she smiled and reached her hand forward to stroke his bruised cheek. Her expression faltered however, when Erik flinched away and his eyes widened in fear. An intense pain ran through Christine then she ignored it as she began to hear pounding feet from upstairs once more. Noises from upstairs.

"Erik," she said sternly, as though she were speaking to a disobedient child. "Erik, listen to me; we have to get out of here. Can you walk?"

He seemed confused by the question but after glancing at his legs and wrinkling his brow he nodded weakly and rose with her help.

With a watchful eye she rapidly led him from the cell and to the staircase. By this point Erik was swaying slightly, and by the time they reached the staircase Christine was supporting almost all of his weight, she managed to reach the front lobby, gently leaning Erik against the door and tiptoing to view the situation. Before she left his side Erik gently touched grabbed her wrist.

"You shouldn't be here, Christine."

"Neither should you." She whispered in response.

Without saying anything more redculantly he let her go...

The front lobby was empty. But clearly it had not been that way for long since there were several overturned over tables and chairs and even more documents scattered on the floor. Mugs nearby also leaned aganist their side, suggesting alchool had been present and the wide oak doors looked careless. Christine bit her lip, but knew it was either now or never and helped Erik stand once more. At last the sudden change in surroundings seemed to provoke a change in him, for his eyes widened and he released his grip slightly on Christine so they could hurry their pace. Eventually they reached the front doors, and once outside Erik nearly fell to his knees with joy.

The stars…he never thought he would see them again.

Christine remained behind him, looking around frantically. Meg was supposed to meet them …but where was she? Christine continued to glance around nervously, but no sign of the blonde appeared.

What was she to do now? She and Meg were to meet here and move to the back of the building where Madame Giry would be waiting with a carriage! _Perhaps she went on without us_, Christine thought anxiously.

With no more hesitation, Christine assisted Erik into a standing position and from there he appeared to be walking on much steadier feet, so she released the grip she had around his waist but glanced at him every couple seconds to make sure he needed no more help. Instantly, Christine noticed he painfully clutched at his side, wincing at every step made with his left foot. She promised herself that as soon as they ventured somewhere safe enough, she would send for medical assistance.

After traveling the alleyway on fast feet, the carriage that Madame Giry had successfully procured stood awaiting them in the empty street. The ballet mistress approached them without hesitation and immediately began helping Erik into the carriage.

"Where is Meg?" she whispered to Christine once Erik was secure.

"What? I hoped she was with you! I have not seem her since we parted at the station!" Christine whispered frantically.

The sudden sound of yelling and laughter echoed in the alleyways neighboring them. Christine and Madame Giry turned to look at one another, then back to the tumult. The laugher and yelling escalated to shrieking and violent screaming and Madame Giry lost all composure. It was all Christine could do to hold her back.

"Oh my Meg, my poor Meg!" she cried, recognizing the source of the screaming.

"Madame wait! Do not go unarmed, do you have any weapons?" Christine asked timidly

"Just-just a dagger and small pistol in the driver's seat." The older woman responded with a shaky voice.

"Very well," Christine said, struggling to keep her grasp on Madame Giry shoulders. "Let us retrieve them and then we will go forth to aid Meg," she pleaded calmly.

The rational speech seemed to calm the Madame, for she tightened the grip on her skirts and ran to the carriage to retrieve the weapons. Upon exiting, she nearly did not notice the frightened look on Christine's face as she tried to hand the young woman a weapon.Christine however, was only capable of pointing to the seat she had left Erik just moments ago

It was now empty.

And Erik was nowhere to be seen.

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(looks at editor with an evil grin) The cliffhanger was her idea, I swear!


	23. Une Délivrance Mortelle

Hello myPhantom-obsessed friends! Here's chapter twenty-three, and as requested I typed and edited as quickly as my brain would allow. So, I hope you all enjoy and continue with the reviews…!

Disclaimer: …do I even **have to **say it anymore?

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As Meg's feet sloshed into yet another puddle, she silently cursed herself. Her feet throbbed from running and her arms ached from trying to hold her skirts up for so long. On top of that those horrible men were catching up with her, and she was not sure how much longer she could outrun them. She thought back over what had led her to this moment, how the man had asked her to dance, how she had somehow foolishly agreed to do so, how they cheered her on until she felt beyond embarrassed and humiliated. It was not long before the brutes grew tired of the classical ballet style and demanded something more provocative. Knowing that Christine needed more time she had agreed, but stalled as long as possible, and when at last she did actually dance, the men were so displeased that they thought it better she not dance at all.

One particularly ugly guard pulled her from the floor onto his lap causing his co-workers to laugh as he did so. Meg tried to play along for as long as she dared but her simple task of distracting the guards was getting out of hand.

"Sorry gentlemen," she said suddenly, pushing the man away and removing herself from his lap. "I really must be going now." She swiftly walked toward the door, her comment greeted by silence. The fattest man of them all however somehow made it to the door before her and pushed her back into the crowd of armed guards.

"Hey there little lady, you ain't going no where," he said with a growl.

Meg panicked as the men gathered around her and, not knowing of what else to do, she kicked the man closest to her and ran beyond his wobbling figure, desperate to get away.

So now she was running down various unfamiliar allies, praying that Christine and Erik got out before any of the men came to their senses and returned to the station to check on their prisoner. Without looking behind her, she could tell there were at least a half of a dozen of them, each swearing and yelling vulgarities at her. She was grateful for her petite form, which allowed her to slip through tight spots her bulky pursuers could only go around or climb over.

Gasping from her efforts, Meg paused to turn down one final street. Unfortunately, the road was deserted, lined only with shops closed for the night, there were no residences nearby where she might find help. At last she stopped, pulling shaking fingers through her hair, the sound of her enemies growing closer. She lacked the strength to continue, and as her legs buckled painfully beneath her she cried out, inadvertently alerting the men of her presence

"Aw, there's our little dancing girl!" shouted one of the drunken men from behind her.

Soon they were all gathered around her, laughing Meg rose shakily and attempted to reason with them.

"Please, monsieur-" She was cut off however, with a firm slap to the face and she fell to the ground once more, crying out…One of the overweight fiends tugged painfully on her hair as he bellowed: "Don't you try none o' that fancy talk now you little tease!" The others laughed and continued to shout more obscenities at her. And roughly pulling at her skirts Meg screamed in a faint attempt to alert anyone around her of her whereabouts. Unfortunately, that attempt was cut short with another slap to the face.

"Don't you be yelling now missy, I promise you'll like it..."

Meg choked back her tears and closed her eyes at the man's putrid face, and offensive breath that smelled of ale. He grabbed her arm roughly and hoisted her upwards, but before he could go any farther a raspy voice from behind them called out.

"Unhand the lady," the voice said evenly.

"Get out of here, mister!" shouted one of the guards. "This here is police business, so you best just be on your way!"

The mysterious stranger spoke , "Yes, police business…I doubt any authority figure has just cause to assault a lady, don't you agree, _gentlemen_ The dark figure that owned the voice stepped forward from the shadows, and the man who held a grasp on Meg released her immediately. and Every guard charged towards the mysterious man that they knew to be their prisoner.

Erik made a valiant attempt to fight the men but he was injured and outnumbered and he also appeared to lack any weapons other than his hands and the strength to incapacitate every one of them. Even so, he managed to disable a tow of them before a Punjab lasso appeared from his hands like magic. The lasso was around one of the men's necks within an instant gagging and straining against the weak rope supported by Erik's hands. Once the man went limb the Phantom assaulted another attacker with the lasso, and it wasn't long before he too fell to the ground. Before he could injure another man he dropped to the ground from a firm kick to the back of the leg. The remaining policemen surrounded him as they had Meg only moments before, and laughed menacingly. One man pulled a revolver form his holster and pointed the cold weapon to Erik's forehead.

"You know what I think happened, boys? I think we've been deceived…you know what else I think?" he teased "I think our friend here not only escaped but was about to murder yet again, he nodded significantly at Meg's swiftly crumpled form, so we had to…use forceful measures." The men chuckled and laughed in agreement. As the encouraged their colleague on.

The sudden sound of a pistol going off nearby startled the men, drawing their attention to the shadows once more. A woman stood there, resolutely aiming the weapon directly at the man holding the gun to the Phantom head. Without hesitation, she fired in his direction, hitting the man plainly in the shoulder and giving Erik enough time to render another the man beside him unconscious. The others remained motionless as Christine continued to silently threaten the remaining men with her pistol. They looked at each other in panic before turning around and rushing blindly back to the safety of the station, leaving the three conspirators alone in the darkness, the wind the only sound as Erik collapsed.

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"_The Fantôme of the Opera escapes police custody and kills two members of police de Paris"_

_Foreword By: Delmar Florismart_

_Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes_

_An outraged crowd gathered outside police headquarters this morning as word of the Phantom's escape traveled throughout the city. Tragically, two officers: Detective Maurice Boutet de Monvel and Sergeant Antoine de Saint Exupry were killed in efforts to recapture the Phantom. The remaining officers who were present at the scene were reluctant to answer questions about the incident but an unidentified source testified that the sound of a pistol could be heard around the time of 1a.m. This injury relates to another officer: Francisque Poulbot, who was shot, but remains in stable condition. However, one questions remains on everyone's mind: How exactly did the phantom make his escape so successful?_

_Truly, an odd question to ask an apparition…_

_Guards and volunteers have updated security in the Opera Populaire for fear he may return, but no signs of mischief or odd occurrences have transpired in the recent hours so Police suspect he may be trying to flee the area. As a result, roadblocks have been stationed every few miles and extra guards are searching residential homes with the hope that the nameless accomplice who assisted in the breakout will be found._

_To insure the safety of Paris's citizens, Monsieur Chief Bartlett has issued a curfew, requiring everyone within the cities boundaries to be within their homes by sundown. The police chief commissioner also wishes to address any civilian who may feel the need to take justice into their own hands._

"…_While I realize the citizens of Paris are distraught with the situation concerning the 'Phantom of the Opera,' I encourage everyone to rely on our squad and to trust that we will indeed catch this murdering ghost, and he **will** pay for his crimes!" _

_On a related matter, the young Prima Donna, Christine Daae has taken ill after hearing of the Phantom's escape and has refused to speak with media or Opera personnel. Due to the particular obsession the Phantom appeared to have with Mademoiselle Daae, her dressing room, (where she is supposedly staying) will be heavily guarded and citizens are to rest assured that the protégé shall be save from the Phantom's evil hand…_

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A/N: I was afraid if I made this another cliffhanger one of you would go nuts and kill my goldfish…so I hope you know your threats were effective! (smiles nervously)


	24. A Cold dream

Hi folks, please enjoy this chapter and review!

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As a long day of rehearsal and dodging the media and gossip mongers came to an end the young ladies from the _corps de ballet _gathered in the dormitory's common room to serve each other the finest gossip they had to offer. One of the girls approached a redhead and eagerly began asking questions.

"Does anyone know what happened when they told her? I saw her leave for the manager's office and a few minutes later Andre was calling for a doctor!"

The dancer La Sorelli rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner and stood up from her seat, the girl who had been brushing her hair was startled at her sudden movement and backed away.

"Don't you know anything, Jacquelyn?" she asked in her usual rueful manner.

"After they told her about our little ghost, she 'collapsed'" Sorelli shifted her weight from one hip to another and made the remark with clear skepticism.

One uniquely beautiful female stopped tending to her blistered feet to glance scornfully in her direction "Oh come now Sorelli, have you no compassion?"

"Maybe compassion isn't the issue," replied a quiet girl from the sofa. "Perhaps our La Sorelli is simply jealous of the attention Christine has been getting lately"

The comment forced the girls into an uproar of laughter and they giggled happily maliciously at the prospect. Sorelli's face showed nothing of joy however, and her face grew red in fury. She stamped her foot and her hands formed ungraceful fists but she remained where she stood.

"Bite your tongue, Cecile!" she shrieked as the laughter began to subside. "You have no idea what your talking about!" Sorelli looked around then suddenly her eyes widening with sudden realization.

"I don't even know why I bother talking to you people! I'm so above you in skill-I-I have no time for such immature children." With that she stormed from the room leaving it silent with her departure.

"She does know she's the same age as us, right?" whispered one girl to another. The response was a simple shrug and laughter erupted once more as the girls continued to exchange gossip.

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Just beyond the door and around the corner Meg sank to the floor in relief that Sorelli hadn't caught her eavesdropping, and she had escaped behind the shadows before she was seen. Meg knew it was wrong to listen in on other people's private conversations (or at least her mother insisted it was), but in this case the blonde dancer had found justifiable cause to place her ear upon the door. Normally she would have just gone in and joined them… But they were talking about Christine now. And as clueless as the girls often were, they weren't gullible enough to think that anything they said to Meg wouldn't be repeated.

Meg had never been shut out like this before and with the recent events still weighing on her soul, she felt the urge to cry building. With a heavy heart she steadied herself and rose to her feet once more, swallowing the sadness that seemed to be taking over her senses and continued on her way to Christine's room.

Upon reaching the door, she was greeted by two guards that seemed far more professional that the one's she had known, for they greeted her respectfully and allowed her to enter upon Mademoiselle Daaé's request and even opened the door for her, nodding their heads politely as she walked into the dark room and shut the door behind her. Still, Meg sighed in relief as soon as she knew the door was locked and they were beyond it. The ballerina didn't have to lift her hand to her eyes to know that they were shaking. But she tried to ignore the memories of the previous night and the fears that came with them and focus on the task ahead of her as she pulled the hidden lever and walked cautiously through the mirror.

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Mme. Giry collapsed in a chair, clearly exhausted from her long hours without sleep. She leaned her elbow against the armrest of the expensive chair and rested her head against her hand. Sighing sadly, she closed her eyes. Desperate to remain alert, comma she arose once more and forced herself to stay awake. She strode around the grim layer that was Erik's home. It had been many years since she had been permitted to come down here. Erik had forbidden it long ago, and knowing the boy valued his privacy above all else, she had respected his wishes and never went beyond the staircase to deliver his salary, or the supplies that he ordered through her.

The ballet instructor felt her youth slipping from her as she explored the dark palace. Now she understood why Erik had banned her from this place of gothic invention and dismal darkness: for those who could see past the exotic artwork, vibrant furniture, and the tranquil shores of the lake saw the lingering soul of a tortured madman and Mme. Giry shivered at the sight A slight tapping upon her shoulder startled her back into reality and Mme. Giry turn to meet Christine with fear evident in the older women's eyes.

"Good heaven's child, you scarred me half to death!" she exclaimed with a harsh whisper. She reached for her heaving chest as if to steady her racing heartbeat.

Christine walked past her sullen and extremely fatigued from the days events, her arms dangling as though she was incapable of controlling them any longer. "Forgive me, Madame," she said after a short time. "It was not my intention."

Christine sat in the chair that her ballet instructor just had risen from and Madame Giry stood behind her protectively. The women remained in silence for several moments, listening to the sound of the wind howling from the water drains above them.

"Is he asleep?" Madame Giry asked.

Christine only nodded, finding that she was having difficultly producing words from her sore, dry throat. "Only now did he drift off," she said, eventually looking over her shoulder at the apprehensive woman behind her.

"You look as though _you_ could use a undisturbed night's sleep as well, Madame," Christine said simply, noting the dark circles on the other woman's face and her ashen complexion. The suggestion however, only produced a small laugh from the older woman and Christine frowned, not understanding.

"My apologies Christine, if anyone in this parlor in this room needs a good night's rest it is most certainly you," she said with a slight smile. "I known you worry for him above everything else, but losing your health to exhaustion will not ease his illness," she said softly.

Christine closed her eyes, two tears escaping her pinched eyelids. "He has not spoken to me since we arrived here…"

Mme. Giry knelt patiently in front of the girl and attempted to soothe her with a bright smile. But as the moments passed, the older woman lost her wisdom and her false smile could no longer hide the despair that she felt as well.

"The doctor said he may have suffered a head injury or two while under the care of our police department, Christine. He may very well be fine, perhaps he is simply not in his right mind at this time but surly he will come to his senses…" The ballet instructor trailed off, not having the heart to continue further and explain to Christine the true extent of Erik's injuries.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

Yesterday evening, as the girls brought Erik in through the deserted doors as Madame Giry had done so many years before, Madame Giry thought it best to make a public appearance to avoid any further suspicion. She silently walked through the halls knowing that it would only a couple of hours before the sun rose and everyone in Paris knew of the Phantom's escape.

Since the hour was so late, she had little to avoid and thankfully only had to deal with the occasional stagehand who was just returning from the pub or local brothel. Still, she forced herself to remain cautious until she reached her destination. First, she halted at her daughter's dormitory to seek a proper replacement for Meg's torn clothing. Luckily, she completed this without waking any of the other young ladies nearby. After this task was accomplished, she hastily made her way to her own chambers to find her medical supply kit, for she was no longer sure what Erik kept in his lair.

And just as guards were beginning to arrive and the ballet girls were just beginning to rub their eyes and shift in their beds at the sound of the heavy footsteps Madame Giry escaped into Christine's dressing room, making sure to leave no trace of anyone's presence.

Somehow, using a will she didn't even realize she was capable of, Mme. Giry managed to tear Christine away from Erik's unconscious form long enough to make her own appearance in the Opera Populaire. With much protest from Mlle. Daaé, the older woman practically pushed Christine up the stairs, but it was only after reasoning with the young lady that she went, requesting of Meg and her adopted mother to take the best of care of him while she was gone.

"Listen to me, child," Madame Giry replied with harsh instruction "Make sure when you 'come to' and they insist you see a physician, that you request Dr. Charles Ferragus. He is a good friend of mine and despite the fact that he is a man of science if you beg him not to ask questions, then he will not."

Christine nodded eagerly, looking back at Erik every few seconds as though she were afraid he would disappear before her eyes at any moment.

"I realize he need a doctor Madame," Christine said with strong anxiety in her voice. "but bring one down here? Is that really such a wise idea?"

The older woman sighed sadly. "Charles is a personal friend of mind, Christine. Once when Erik was a child he developed a deadly fever that Dr. Ferragus assisted his with. He is a trustworthy man, you must take my word of that. You must also make sure to see him alone Christine, lead him through the mirror as we discussed and I am quite sure he will aid us."

"But Madame-"

"No more questions, girl! she scolded with a demanding tone. "Now do as I say, and be quick about it."

Christine bit her lip but followed the Madame's to the letter. And as promised, the doctor who apparently had many strange things didn't give a second glance to the dark passageways. At their request, he asked no questions other than that of Erik's medical history; the only other time he spoke was to bark directions to Meg or remind Christine that her fretting was getting in his way.

"Come, child," Madame Giry said, leaving Meg to serve the doctor's temporary nurse as she led Christine from the room. "Let us get you changed from these soiled clothes and find something to eat."

Christine protested but knew that the Madame's wisdom exceeded her own and she was most likely right about the need to save her strength for Erik's sake.

It seemed like an eternity before the physician reappeared, with Meg at his side. The moment the door was open Meg ran through it weeping, insisting that it was merely the sight of blood that had her so worked up. With one look from her mother, Meg rushed Christine off with the excuse that more bandages were needed. With the girl's absents, a feeling of impending doom settled over the room.

"How bad, Charles?" was all she asked. The weary doctor shook his head and approached the older woman hesitantly.

"At first the injuries appeared to be mild at best, but when I could not determine the reason for his unconsciousness I did a more extensive examination. The-the abdomen is swollen, suggesting internal bleeding. Unfortunately, we don't know how exactly the injuries were obtained or when they were received so-"

"What _are_ you telling me, Charles," she asked with an air of impatience.

Charles sighed, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from this woman even if he wanted to. "Antoinette, he's bleeding from the inside out. I don't know where it's coming from and I _don't_ know how to stop it."

XxxxXXXXxxxx

"Please Madame, for both our sakes, I beseech you to go upstairs and rest?"

Knowing the battle was lost, the older woman arose and placed a slight kiss on Christine's forehead. "I love you, cherie," she said softly. "Do not forget that most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who kept on trying even when there seemed to be no hope at all."

She left Christine then, silently she refusing to look back for fear she would begin to weep openly, but as she passed her daughter on the staircase she smiled sadly and Meg's eyes immediately fell at the silent news. The women continued their separate ways, Meg clutched her package of food and medical supplies as though it would save her from the tragic truth.

As the light of the few candles burning by the shore of Erik's home came into view, Meg took her bundle and placed it in a visible place but intentionally neglected to alert Christine to her presence, for as Meg glanced into Erik's open bedroom door, he lay eerily still and Christine rested her head on his shoulder and wept for all she was worth.


	25. Cassé

_Wow chapter 25_...I must admit I never thought this fic would go so far, and I blame the _reviewers_! Each and every one of you have driven me mad with pleas of not letting Erik die and what not…you are all driving me mad to the point where I just _want to crawl under my bed with the dust bunnies and never see the light of day again!_ (end insane babble here)

Anyway please know that this is **not **the last chapter, but my fic is coming to an end…just thought I would give everyone a fair warning. So without further delay: here's chapter 25, I give props to Amy Lee whom I borrowed this clip of lyrics from…enjoy!

xxxxXXXXxxxx

_"The worst is over now and we can breathe again  
I want to hold you high, you steal my pain away  
There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight  
I want hold you high and steal your pain_

Because I'm broken when I'm open  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
And I don't feel right when you're gone away…"

As the final stifled musical sob escaped her throat Christine gently reached out with a quivering hand to touch her beloved's unmoving face. She rested her voice for a moment to adjust the blankets around him, making sure his bare chest was warm. She smiled sadly as she moved that cumbersome strand of hair from his face as she always did. As she observed the slow movement of his breathing and noticed the cold texture of his flesh she knew that perhaps she _would_ lose him.

The thought tore a scream of anguish from her throat and she buried herself against his side, careful not to further injure him. She closed her eyes as she recalled the conversation that the doctor and Madam Giry had exchanged. She hadn't heard everything, but the expression on Mme. Giry's face as he spoke those final words to her said more than the young woman needed to know. She hadn't intended to spy, but the eager fashion in which Meg was trying to get her to exit the room made it plainly obvious everything was not as well as it should be.

Mixed emotions seized her heart when Mme. Giry had offered the theory that Erik was 'fine,' that it was just a mixture of malnutrition, exhaustion, and his injuries that produced his slumber, but Christine was no longer as naïve as she used to be. And as Meg had blindly lied to her about his condition and Mme. Giry had allowed her time alone with him, the painful clench of death laced itself upon her very being. In a way she was grateful for their protective nature towards her, but in this turbulent time weren't deceptions of hope and fruitless encouragement only more damaging?

She looked up briefly from her thoughts, wondering if she should sing another verse, another song, anything…

…_I carry your voice with me always and it will insure I die with a smile…_

Christine winced at the memory of his heart wrenching letter. A part of her hated him for it, hated Mme. Giry for giving up so easily and not finding another doctor, hated Meg for patronizing her…

But most of all she hated herself.

This horrible mess was all _her_ fault! Christine violently shook her head back and forth to get rid of the possibilities that filled her mind of other things she could have done to avoid this tragedy. Her Erik was ill beyond measure and lying helpless because she was too inexperienced with life to think of a more positive solution! Guilt clutched at her heart strings and sorrow followed it, leaving behind a trail of withered joy. She was convinced she would never experience happiness again.

If only perhaps she had come up with a better explanation of Raoul's death than Erik wouldn't have felt the need to turn himself in…maybe if she had taken responsibility for the fire and claimed his death was self-defense…even if she had rescued Erik earlier…

She had failed him.

The look of hope, of adoration and pride on his face when he recognized her at the jail couldn't be denied. And while fear for her safety clouded his waking judgment, her love for him could no longer be questioned. It was an unspoken promise that their hearts permanently belonged to one another, and now the only thing Christine longed to do was keep that promise.

She remained at his bedside and wept silently over him, praying for his unlikely recovery and cursing herself. For if he should die it would be entirely her fault, and while she knew Lucifer would be awaiting her arrival in Hades, the human lifetime without Erik seemed more punishment than any demon could ever offer.

"Oh my angel," she whispered, then raised her voice and continued going with more urgency. "Don't die! If you should leave me, I shall perish with you."

He was so pallid, so utterly without color (even for him), and so still he scarcely seemed to be breathing. His weakened state forced Christine to more tears, until at last she calmed herself somewhat and leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear.

"I love you, Erik. Do you hear me my beloved angel? I love you-" She broke off to sob slightly, but continued after a few moments. "More than life, I love you. Wake up Erik, wake up and come back to me…"

Christine miserably laid her head upon his bed, whispering 'I love you, I love you' until she fell into a sleep filled with nightmares of a horrible existence without Erik.

XxxxXXXXxxxx

The bright moonlight highlighted the stain-glassed windows, and produced an illuminating effect against the chapel walls. The Young Meg Giry kneeled in respectful silence before the large crucifix on the wall. She frowned in her troubled thoughts before lighting yet another candle on behalf of her suffering friends.

She looked up again only when she heard the approaching footsteps of her mother. Meg smiled in a sad greeting and her mother did the same as she walked though the doorway. The older woman sat beside her daughter and together they silently observed the glimmer of candles before them, each consumed by their own thoughts.

"I have not seen you down here in a long time." Madame Giry said after a few minutes.

Meg looked at her mother sadly and began a simple explanation "Christine always comes here when she feels troubled, so I thought it best I take her place."

The older woman seemed to contemplate this answer for a few moments before responding, as if she were afraid of saying something wrong.

"I know you have not had the proper education most Catholics have had, but surly Meg you know that prayer does not make every desire into a reality."

Meg closed her eyes and shook her head in an annoyed manner. "Mother, surly you cannot possibly think I am that naïve? I am not so childish that I believe that every prayer I ever commit myself to will come true, I just- I just well I suppose I don't really know exactly." She paused to take a breath before continuing. "The man who lies in the fifth cellar of this Opera House is a murderer, a thief, and social deviant, but Christine loves him. Yet, despite the devotion they have for one another…I'm not sure if I believe he deserves to live

"Something like that is not for us to decide, Meg," her mother said softly. "Mortality is God's work."

Meg was silent for a moment more before responding. "It is difficult to imagine that Christine's angel and the ghost I once made up stories about are one and the same. I wish I had known then how important and how beloved this Phantom would be to her."

"I know my dear, I too have pondered how these series of events came to be."

The room was silent once more, as both women stared at the wax that dripped from the candles edges. They each observed a unspoken prayer, and several moments passed before Meg spoke up once more.

"I hope he lives, Maman…For Christine's sake if nothing else. I truly hope God feels Erik worthy of life _and_ Christine's love."

The ballet instructor turned to her daughter and smiled sadly before reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"As do I my dear, as do I."

XxxxXXXXxxxx

_Pain._

That was all he felt now.

_Pain._

Physical agony beyond his wildest dreams imaginings filled every fiber of his being and the moment he attempted to so much as twitch his fingers he grimaced. The excruciating feeling in his limbs and joints reminded him of the events from his last moments of consciousness flooding back to him, and while his first instinct was to confirm Christine's safety, he found that even the simplest of moments caused a ache.

_Christine._

His eyes flew open, despite their painful protests And as he adjusted to the candlelight of the room a slight movement caught his eye. The agony in his neck was unbearable but the familiar scent of his lovely companion forced him to ignore it to get a proper look at her. He smiled sadly, for her hair tangled around her face messily and her features were swollen and red from what seemed to be more than a lifetime worth of tears. With mush objection from his freshly dislocated shoulder and the sling that now sheltered it, he reached up to place his hands among the curls beside him. With her eyes closed, she looked somewhat peaceful but clearly she was incredibly distressed.

Erik opened his mouth but, while the words were formed, they seemed incapable of leaving his dry throat. Glancing to his side he noticed a glass of water by his bedside and despite the torture, the need for hydration won over. After getting over the obstacle of his bandaged ribs, and the various series of stitches that littered his body he set the glass back in its place, he traced one of his fingers along Christine's moist eyelashes.

"Christine…" he whispered with his raspy voice.

She awoke slowly, clearly confused by her surroundings, but as her eyes greeted Erik's, she quickly remembered and happily threw herself into his outstretched arms. Almost the moment they touched, she felt him flinch and heard him grunt in pain.

"Erik, my god Erik, I am so sorry. Are you all right? Can I get you anything? Where does it hurt-?"

Much to her obvious dissatisfaction, he chuckled at her hysterics, instantly regretting it as he clutched his side painfully.

"I heard you," he said with fatigue evident in his voice.

Gently, he reached his palm to Christine's face and held it there by cupping his hand with her own. "In the dark, I heard you calling me…" He trailed off slightly

but remained conscious. Christine merely cried tears of relief and whispered :

"Oh my love, the doctor predicts your illness to be fatal…I fear the next time the dark takes you from me it shall be the last."

He smiled at the sound of the term of endearment and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb.

"Oh Christine, I could never leave you. _Never_"


	26. Epilogue

Oh wow, you guys I can hardly believe this is my last chapter. Don't get me wrong I can think of at least another half a dozen Erik and Christine misadventures but…I think I'm just going to leave them where they are for now…

I would like to thank everybody for all the encouragement and feedback, I can't tell you guys how much it helps…(happy tears)

This chapter is dedicated to Barb (my very happy-go-lucky editor who has never-ending patience (and is just plain awesome)

**Thanks for everything everybody, enjoy the chapter and please review!**

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Erik soon lost consciousness once more and as his eyes closed yet again, Christine would have gladly cried out in agony but instead her eyes gazed intently on the hand that still held her and had yet to go limp. She remained at his side, refusing to rest for fear when she awoke his hand would no longer grasp her own and she would be alone…

_Days._

_Weeks._

Christine wasn't sure how many of them had passed exactly. Her time was filled with endless consciousness until Madame Giry or Meg urged she bathe or eat, insisting that if she were to help Erik's wounds heal that she, too would need to keep up her strength. Often too weak to protest, she would allow them to lead her through a series of forced meals and short periods of sleep.

Erik himself was becoming more and more alert as they days passed. He rarely spoke but when he did it was only to Christine, assuring her that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon as long as she was by his side.

One evening, after several days lacking sleep, Christine dozed off to a restless slumber. She awoke sometime later to find the small array of candles that she had lit earlier had been extinquished and the darkness scared her.

Reaching over to Erik's bedside, Christine became boarderline hysterical when she found him missing. Frenzied thoughts ran through her mind as she wondered where he might possibly be. Frantically, she sprang from her seat beside his bed and dashed to the door, tripping on her skirts as she ran.

"Erik?" she called out into the dark, awaiting his reply but heard none and instantly began worrying her dread increased.

"Erik! Erik where are-"

"No need to damage your voice with all that yelling, my dear," whispered a voice from just behind her.

Christine jumped in surprise but instantly she threw her arms around Erik and embraced him fiercely.

"Erik, what are you doing up? You should be resting." she said as they pulled apart, noticing his fresh clothes.

His only response was a shrug, but his arms still remained around her own. "Perhaps you are right my dear, but I fear if I spend another moment in that bed I may go mad."

He smiled at her then, sadly but comfortably in an attempt to soothe her of her anxiety. She did not seem appeased however, so he gently took her hand in his own and led her silently to the organ, which had grown cloudy with dust from its lack of use.

"Sing for me, he commanded gently as he sat upon the bench, stretching his fingers in preparation for the exercise.

Christine sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in silent protest, but the moment Erik began to play her heart filled itself with that sweet melody of his and soon the splendor enveloped her soul and she couldn't resist the ache inside that urged her to sing to it.

_Think of me_  
_think of me fondly,_  
_when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me  
once in a while -  
please promise me  
you'll try._

_When you find  
that, once  
again, you long  
to take your heart back  
and be free -  
if you_  
_ever find  
a moment,  
spare a thought  
for me_

_We never said  
our love  
was evergreen,  
or as unchanging  
as the sea -  
but if  
you can still  
remember  
stop and think  
of me . . ._

_Think of all the things  
we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the things  
which might have been . . ._

Think of me,  
think of me waking,  
silent and  
_resigned._  
_Imagine me,  
trying too hard  
to put you  
from my mind._

Recall those days  
look back  
on all those times,  
think of the things  
we'll never do -  
there will  
never be  
a day, when  
I won't think  
of you . . ."  


Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade.  
They have their seasons. So do we.  
But please promise me that sometimes  
you will think of me!

The final notes of the songs echoed around them for a few moments before Christine moved to settle down beside her Erik. They sat in somber silence, the only contact between them was the hand that they held. Erik affectionately stroked her fingertips, causing a shiver to radiate throughout her body.

"Are you cold?" he looked up, worried by her reaction. But she only smiled, then gently wrapped her arms around Erik and held him close. He responded by pulling her closer and burrowing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

"Marry me."

Christine pulled away, unsure she had heard him correctly. Erik mistook her reaction as a response of disgust and rose from the bench to avoid her confused gaze. Furious with himself for even making such an unrealistic request, he ruffled his hand through his hair and closed his eyes to flee from the shame.

"Forgive me, Christine. That was nothing more than the foolish dream of a delusional man, he told her dejectedly, unaware that Christine had also arisen from her seat and had been steadily walking towards him during his frantic explanation.

"Perhaps I have truly gone mad after all," he whispered under his as Christine continued to approach him.

"Love is nothing more than refined madness," Christine defended as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "And I know you love me."

He turned to face her then and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "And I would love nothing more than to be your wife, Erik."

The couple heard little else beside their own laughter as Erik lifted her from the ground and spun her around in a whimsical fashion. But that lasted only a short moment before Christine insisted he stop before he hurt himself.

"It doesn't matter!" he laughed joyously. "Nothing matters as long as I have you, " he added, leaning in to claim her lips.

"And you always will."

XxxxXXXXxxxx

_The Search for The Fantôme continues_

_Foreword By: Delmar Florismart_

_Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes_

_Citizens of Paris grow weary as the updates on the search of the Phantom grow fewer and farther between. It has been nearly a month since the mad apparition's escape, and Mademoiselle Christine Daaé has grown so distraught that adopted family has insisted she leave the Opera Populiare before her nerves overwhelm her. The managers and staff of the famous opera house were very distraught to release Miss Daaé from her contract, but were given the circumstances. This reporter, along with several other upstanding journalists, attempted to interview Miss Daaé but the Prima Donna had already left the premises and is reportedly staying with relatives in the country._

_As of late there have been several "sightings" of the infamous Phantom, along many other strange occurrences surrounding the Opera Populaire, one of the most recent oddities being that the newly appointed Prima Ballerina, Marguerite Giry, and an unidentified man were seen two nights ago hiring a carriage. The young dancer did not return until the following day, interestingly enough the same day Christine Daaé publicly announced her retirement from the Opera Populaire. Police have very little else to offer other than insisting that their investigation is currently remains active and that perhaps Mlle. Christine Daaé's decision was for the best…._


End file.
